Ties That Bind
by Commodore Norrington
Summary: Kate suddenly has to deal with the ramifications of an event she would rather have forgotten.
1. Prologue: The Phone Call

Thanks to Gibbsgirl and m.a.c. for their plot bunny which they kindly entrusted to us.

Highest praise is due my editor and so much more, Margaret. Not only did she find all of my mistakes, but she was the one who took the original idea and ran with it in the first place! She also kept (and continues to keep) me on track with our timeline. I never could have done this without her.

* * *

"That still leaves us with the fact that you don't have a date tonight…and I do," Tony gloated.

"And I'm supposed to care, why?" Kate countered.

Tony faltered. "Because…"

"Because the testosterone is raging and you just have to tell _someone_ about your mighty conquest? Because _your_ every thought is about the opposite sex, so everyone else's should be, too?"

Tony considered this for a moment. "Yeah, sounds about right," he replied with a grin.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Tony, you have a lot to learn about women."

"Wanna teach me?" he teased.

Tony saw Kate shake her head in disbelief. Eighteen months ago, she would have nailed his butt to the wall with a sexual harassment suit. She seemed to have grown more comfortable with (or at least more used to) his personality, though, and often gave him a taste of his own medicine. Occasionally, Tony thought, she enjoyed shoving the spoon down his throat a little too much. He could see that she was framing just such a sarcastic zinger when her phone rang.

He barely noticed that it was her desk phone, not her cell, as she picked up the receiver and smoothly answered, "Agent Todd."

A smile still played across Tony's face as he sat at his desk. She would be off the phone soon and their conversation would pick right up where it had left off. Their banter always did. Only seconds into the call, though, and he was beginning to suspect that something was not normal. He could actually see the blood draining from Kate's face, so quickly that even her lips went white, as she listened to the caller. Aside from a few initial murmurs of assent, she wasn't speaking at all. Suddenly, she reached out a hand to her desk to steady herself and lowered herself slowly into her chair. Fully alert now, he watched her slowly pick up a pen and scribble something onto a scrap of paper. This kind of response to a phone call was never a good sign.

"Okay. Yes. I'll be right there. Thank you." The last was barely a whisper, as she not so much hung up as dropped the handset into the cradle. Sluggishly, as if in a dream, she picked up the piece of paper and ran a hand through her hair almost mechanically.

Tony watched in fascination, reluctant to speak in case it would add to her misery. He assumed it was a death in the family. He'd only seen that kind of reaction twice; once when a chaplain had paid a visit to his friend's house and once when his grandfather had called his mother. After two or three awkward minutes of silence, however, his essential Tony-ness felt compelled to speak.

"You okay, Kate?"

She looked at him blankly, as if wondering why other people were in this suddenly private world of hers. "I…I have to go." She stood surprisingly quickly given her previous listlessness, gathered her coat and the piece of paper, and dashed out of the room. Or, at least, she tried to. A very solid former Marine got in the way.

"Going somewhere, Kate?" Gibbs asked offhandedly, in a tone that clearly said: Not anymore.

"I…need the afternoon off, Gibbs," she answered quietly.

"Why?" he asked.

"I just do." Kate's steely tone caught Tony completely off guard. He had only heard her use it on suspects. (And, on the not-so-rare-occasion that he pushed her too far, himself.) It wasn't the sort of tone people used with Gibbs, especially Kate.

"And if I say no?"

Kate swallowed hard. "Then I'll have to go anyway."

Tony, hazarding a quick glimpse upward, noticed that Gibbs looked only mildly surprised. Tony assumed that the look on Kate's face had affected Gibbs as much as it had him. Even so, Gibbs was still Gibbs.

"Agent Todd, you're not going anywhere without an explanation," he growled in a voice that brooked no argument.

"I can't give you one," Kate admitted softly.

"Then I can't let you go," Gibbs retorted.

Kate nodded. "Fair enough. See you tomorrow."

"Agent Todd!" he barked after her. She continued to the elevator, never turning around. Gibbs' eyes stormed as he returned to his desk. "What are you gawking at, DiNozzo?"

"Nothing, boss," Tony returned automatically, wisely focusing on his work. A few moments later, however, he hazarded a question. "What was that about?"

"I don't know, DiNozzo!" Gibbs all but yelled. Tony didn't hear him add, almost in a whisper, "I don't know."


	2. Meetings and Memories

_His chocolate brown eyes were hypnotizing. Blond hair, strangely matched with his eyes, framed his face with charming curls. She had always known he was hot, but up close he became irresistible. How could she say no to the cutest and most popular guy in school?_

_"So," he prompted, "will you go?"_

_"Yes," she answered breathlessly._

_"Great," he grinned. "Pick you up at eight?"_

_"Okay," she agreed, still trying to breathe._

Tears pooled in Kate's eyes as she drove. Memories attacked her mind, breaking out of the remote corners where she had chained them. That night, in particular, kept surfacing. She had just turned sixteen when Dominic Fleming asked her out. She had thought it would be the best night of her life.

_"L'Endroit? That's the ritziest restaurant in town!" Caitlin exclaimed._

_"Only the best for you, babe," he smirked._

_She gazed at the menu in awe, unwilling to admit she couldn't read any of it. She was shocked by the prices, too. Finally, she meekly ordered the cheapest meal and hoped it would be something she liked. He kept smiling at her, his eyes twinkling. She blushed, flattered, but wished in a way he would quit staring. She was growing steadily more aware and uncomfortable of how her body filled out her dress._

_"Watch this," he winked, motioning to a waiter. "We'd like a bottle of your best wine."_

_The waiter gave a brief nod and moved off. Caitlin stared at Dominic. His grin widened as he misinterpreted her gape._

_"My dad owns Thumbelina's," he explained, invoking the name of the large grocery chain in hopes of impressing her._

_"But…you're only 17," she whispered, the question apparent in her voice._

_"Oh, that." He waved a hand dismissively. "They know me here. I've only had to use this once." He produced a driver's license with his picture but, apparently, someone else's information._

_"Oh," she smiled nervously, a very tiny alarm bell sounding in her mind. She was a little impressed, though. Using false ID to buy alcohol was daring, rebellious. She kind of liked the bad boy Dominic was turning out to be._

_The wine came and Dominic popped the cork expertly. She almost objected to his pouring her a glass but kept silent, not wanting to look prudish. Watching carefully as he downed his glass, she managed to imitate his attitude and took a small sip. The stuff was nasty, but she choked it down anyway. Before she knew it, she had downed a whole glass._

Kate pulled into the parking lot of a large professional building. She took a moment to check herself in the mirror, hastily wiping her eyes and brushing her hair into a more presentable shape. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she slowly opened the car door and walked toward the building.

_Caitlin grew increasingly uneasy as Dominic became more inebriated. She had imbibed only the one glass of the wine, but he had downed most of the bottle. His previously charming grin as beginning to look more like a leer and she found his eyes drifting from her face to her…other assets. Realizing that this date was not going to get any better, she decided to end it._

_"Dominic," she began hesitantly. To her surprise, he beat her to it._

_"Hey, babe, let's get out of here," he suggested, his words ever so slightly slurred._

_"Okay," she agreed, relieved._

_The air was chilly as they emerged from the restaurant and Dominic put his arm around her. She appreciated the gesture, but something wasn't right. Suddenly, his mouth was on hers. The alcohol on his breath gagged her as she struggled to free herself from his grip._

_"What are you doing?" she gasped as she wrenched away._

_"Come on, doll," he slurred lecherously. "You know you want to."_

_"No! Take me home, please," she begged._

_"Home? But we're having such a great time."_

_"Take me home right now, Dominic Fleming." She meant to sound decisive and firm but she was struggling not to cry and her voice quavered as she spoke._

_He glared at her for a moment, then grinned. "Okay," he nodded, "whatever you say."_

_She definitely didn't like his grin at this point, but she had no other way home. Slipping into the passenger seat, she tried to sit as far away from him as possible. She was so preoccupied with keeping an eye on his wandering hands that she didn't notice where they were until it was too late._

_"This isn't the way to my house," she said, her tone coming out somewhere between admonishing and curious._

_"It isn't?" he teased, gloating. "Oops."_

_He pulled the car onto a deserted stretch of country road and she realized with dread that this was The Place they all talked about at school. She had actually been looking forward to coming here, someday and with someone special, but tonight was not the night and Dominic was definitely not the boy._

_"Don't be scared," he reassured her. "I come here all the time."_

_"No," she pleaded as he began undoing his clothes. "I don't want to do this."_

_"Trust me, you'll love it," he smirked, reaching toward her._

_"No!" She pulled at the door handle, but it was locked. By the time she had unlocked it and tugged again, he had her by the arm. "Let me go!"_

_"I'd say I like a girl with spirit," he grunted, "but it's way too cliché."_

_"Please, no!" she cried, sobbing now. But he was bigger than her, and stronger, and the alcohol in her system was slowing her down._

_The fight was too much for her._

Kate approached the receptionist tentatively, unsure of what to say.

"I'm here to see Mr. Tomkins," she said quietly, not elaborating.

"You're Miss Todd?" the receptionist confirmed. At Kate's nod, she ushered her down a hallway to an office with an impressive oak door. Engraved on a familiar brass plate next to the door was the name: Randy Tompkins, J.D., Family Law. Kate took a deep breath and entered the office.

"Ah, Kate," came a smooth voice from behind the large oak desk. "It's wonderful to see you again. Please, have a seat." The attorney indicated the soft-looking armchairs in front of his desk. Kate took one, gratefully, and waited for him to continue.

_It was a month after The Incident that she knew. She wrestled with herself, wondering if she should tell Dominic. She had a pretty good idea of what he would say and she could never do it. She had been raised Catholic and gone to Catholic school for ten years. She would have to hide it, then, not only from Dominic but from everyone. Her family could never know._

_She began wearing baggier clothes, claiming that they were more comfortable. When they asked why she was eating more and tiring easily, she said it was a growth spurt. Doctors' appointments masqueraded as visits to friends' houses. After four months, she had become quite an accomplished liar._

_She started wondering what she would do with the child after she was born. The doctor had told her it was a girl and against her better judgment, Caitlin had started playing with names. She liked Grace, and perhaps Elizabeth after her grandmother. Grace Elizabeth, then. She knew she could never keep Grace; after all, that's why she was hiding her in the first place. Adoption was the only option._

_She found Randy Tomkins through her doctor. Familiar with the plight of young girls like herself, the doctor told her that Mr. Tompkins was a kind and sympathetic man who would help her find the best arrangements for her daughter. Caitlin had worried about the fee (she could only go to the doctor because of a pro-life charity that paid her bills) but the doctor had reassured her that Mr. Tompkins often took pro bono cases like hers._

"Any questions?" Mr. Tompkins finished, watching Kate's face carefully.

"Um, yeah," Kate started hesitantly, still shocked by the news. "Why do I get her? Since her…since the O'Neills are dead, shouldn't the state get custody?"

"In most cases, yes," the lawyer confirmed. "But if you remember, we drew up special papers for you and Grace. Legally speaking, you became her guardian as of her adoptive parents' death. Of course, you can always put her back up for adoption."

"No, no." Kate shook her head. "That's not what I meant. The only reason I couldn't take her the first time was because I was sixteen and not in a position to raise a child. And my parents, of course…" She trailed off.

Mr. Tompkins nodded understandingly. "Yes. Well, then, if you're ready, just sign here and she's all yours."

Kate stared at the line on the paper, pen poised to sign just as she had fourteen years ago.

"_Kate, I'd like you to meet the O'Neills," Mr. Tompkins said in his warm voice as he led her into his office. "They'll be adopting Grace."_

_Caitlin shyly shook the proffered hand of the large redheaded man. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. O'Neill."_

"_Ed," he boomed, smiling broadly. "And the pleasure's all mine."_

"_Mary," his rather smaller and quieter wife introduced herself. "Do forgive him. He often forgets he's indoors."_

_Caitlin smiled at the woman's wink She liked them already, and she had become immensely distrustful since The Incident. She sat down, next to Mr. Tompkins and across from the O'Neills, in one of the comfortable armchairs that dotted the office._

_"So, what do you want to know about us?" Ed O'Neill began._

_Caitlin began with some basic questions. Catholic? Yes. Home? Mid-size and in a great neighborhood. Job? He was a geologist and she a substitute teacher. Then she asked the question that had been weighing on her mind since Mr. Tompkins had first told her he had found an interested couple._

_"Why do you want Grace?"_

_They didn't answer immediately. After a few moments thought, Ed spoke quietly. "We've always wanted children. When we found out that we couldn't have any, we were devastated. We heard your story, though, and it was an answered prayer. We knew that God had finally given us a child."_

_Caitlin watched them for a long moment. Finally, slowly, she nodded. Mr. Tompkins smiled kindly and handed her the first of many papers to sign._

Kate finished her signature with a shaky flourish, slightly numb with the implications of it. She had a _daughter_. How on earth was she going to do this?

Mr. Tompkins interrupted her thought process with a quiet inquiry. "Would you like to meet her?"

Kate looked up, startled. "She's here? Now?"

Mr. Tompkins nodded, studying Kate's face carefully. He didn't want to push her too far too fast, but she was strong. He wouldn't do it if he weren't sure she could take it.

Kate swallowed hard, then nodded determinedly. "Okay."

Mr. Tompkins smiled encouragingly as he paged his assistant on the intercom. "Could you bring Grace in, please?"

"Right away, Mr. Tompkins," came the tinny, distorted voice.

Kate heard the door open behind her and took a deep breath. Turning slowly, the first thing she saw were her own eyes staring back at her.


	3. Grace Elizabeth

Thanks for all the kind reviews! However, they have brought up a point that needs to be addressed.

There is no intended shipping in thisfic In the interests of beingtrue to the show and focusing on the issues of the story, any 'shipping' will be confined to the reader's interpretation. Like on the show, there may be snippets of conversation that _seem_ Kate/Tony or Kate/Gibbs or whatever, but nothing more will be made of any ship.

* * *

A torrent of conflicting emotions flooded Kate's mind. Joy, worry, relief, fear, love, dread. The eyes which she had at first thought were her own, she now realized were lighter and far more innocent. Grace's hair was brown, like Kate's, but with a definite blonder tint. It also curled slightly, framing her face in a sickeningly familiar way. Kate swallowed hard; Grace looked very little like Dominic, in fact, but the little features were enough to catch her breath.

_It was a long time ago,_ she reminded herself. _I'm not the same person, and she's not her father._

After what seemed hours but was in reality only a few seconds, Kate remembered herself and smiled in what she hoped was a friendly way. Her mouth suddenly felt too big for her face and she was having trouble operating it.

"Grace, this is your birth mother, Caitlin Todd," Mr. Tompkins said quietly. "Kate, Grace."

"Grace," Kate greeted hoarsely. How often she had turned the name over in her mind, wondering about the person behind it. Now she was finally meeting her and she had no clue what to say.

"Hi," the girl replied. Her tone was guarded but, to Kate's surprise, not shy. Repressing the urge to smile at this resemblance to her own personality, Kate cast about for something to say. This girl had just lost the only people she knew as parents; what could anybody say?

Grace decided for her. "So…I'm gonna live with you?"

Kate nodded. "Yes. If that's all right with you."

"Sure," the girl shrugged. "How long do I have?"

"Since it's already May," Mr. Tompkins jumped in, "we want to let you finish out the school year. We still have a bit of paperwork to sort out, too, before you can move in with Ms. Todd. I'll need to officially examine the suitability of the home and…" He realized his audience was only pretending to listen out of politeness. "Well, I've arranged to have your Uncle Jack continue staying with you for the next few weeks. Is that all right with both of you?"

Kate nodded, slightly relieved that she wouldn't have the responsibility of a fourteen-year-old on her hands immediately. Grace shrugged again, apparently trying to exude the typical teenage indifference. Kate's heart went out to her; this girl had lost her entire family (as she knew it) less than a week ago, her life was now being upended by two strange people, and yet she was attempting to maintain her composure.

"Okay," Mr. Tompkins smiled. "You ladies should have more time to get to know each other in these coming weeks, but time has unfortunately passed us much faster than, I'm sure, we imagined. Grace needs to get back to her uncle for dinner. And bed; it's a school night, young lady."

Grace nodded tiredly and turned to leave.

"Grace," Kate called before she could stop herself. "It was nice to meet you." She offered her hand and Grace took it, almost hesitantly, a small smile growing slowly over her face.

And then Grace walked out the door with a piece of Kate's heart.

"Kate," Mr. Tompkins began quietly, after Grace had left. "My wife asked me to extend an invitation for dinner tonight. I believe the menu is stew and dumplings."

Kate smiled gratefully, suddenly exhausted. "Thanks, but I think I just need to be alone tonight."

The kind lawyer wore a sympathetic look as he patted her on the arm. "Of course. If you need anything, you have my number."

"Thanks," she repeated, walking slowly out the door.

She got in her car and just sat for a few moments, thinking. Questions ran through her mind, pausing briefly for consideration before scurrying off again. They were questions of all types, ranging from serious problems to trivial issues. The one question that came up repeatedly, in a few different variations, was a serious question about a big problem. _What am I going to tell Gibbs?_


	4. Telling Gibbs

"Gibbs," Kate began confidently, "I have a daughter."

Her reflection gazed coldly back at her, saying nothing. She sighed. The drive to work had never been shorter and she considered going around the block until she had composed a decent explanation. Reason won out, though, as she realized that putting it off would only delay the inevitable.

"Gibbs," she tried again as she walked into the building, "When I was a teenager – no." She stopped herself, vowing she would not tell anyone the circumstances of Grace's conception. It was far too personal.

"Agent Todd?" the security guard asked, bringing her thoughts back to the present. He looked mildly surprised that she was in so early; she normally didn't turn up for another hour or two. She smiled quickly at him and stepped through the metal detector, collecting her weapon on the other side.

_It's not too late, _she thought. _I can still go back. I don't have to tell him anything._ Another, more practical, voice retorted, _Yeah, right. Gibbs not notice anything? Maybe when Satan passes out snow-cones._ She sighed again. This was not going to be pleasant.

As she walked into the bullpen, trying desperately to look calm and confident, she noticed Gibbs' mouth open. It was difficult to tell whether it was merely surprise at seeing her in so early or the beginning of a rant about yesterday's behavior, but she guessed the latter. Gibbs was hardly a jaw-dropper.

Before he could say anything, she cut him off. "Gibbs, I need to talk to you."

His expression didn't even change as he shaped his already open mouth around different words. "I'd say you do."

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday, okay? It was…an emergency," Kate explained lamely. He raised an eyebrow, his way of saying that was not nearly enough. "I had to go see a lawyer," she continued carefully. His eyebrow inched further upwards. "About…my daughter." There, it was out.

Both eyebrows reacted this time. Kate didn't think she'd ever seen Gibbs so surprised. He recovered with unbelievable speed, though, so fast she wondered if she'd even seen the look at all.

"Daughter," he repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Why didn't I know about her before?"

His tone was dangerously casual. Kate swallowed hard; the conversation had definitely taken a turn for the worse.

"Um," she started, all of her practiced explanations suddenly erased. "I…she…hasn't exactly been living with me." There was the eyebrow again, although this time it had a far more accusatory tone. "She hasn't even really been in my life. At all. Since she was born." In her nervousness, Kate's sentences came out in bursts.

"Father?" Kate hadn't thought it was possible to convey so much meaning with one word. He somehow managed to express disappointment, faint anger, and even two different questions, all in just two syllables.

"Boyfriend," she answered one of the questions. "And no," she answered the other. "He didn't even know. She was adopted. Her adoptive parents were killed last week, so I get custody." There was something about the way Gibbs said nothing that made people want to fill the silence. Kate had often seen him use it on suspects and now she found the tactic at work on her.

"Adopted? You didn't want your own child?" Kate was shocked at the outburst. The only time she had ever seen Gibbs react like that was when Captain Watson had tried to explain why he'd put his family at risk. Like then, she found herself wondering what more there was to Gibbs' story.

Her more immediate concern, however, was Gibbs' accusing remark. Indignant, she replied with more information than she had planned to give. "Gibbs, I was sixteen years old! I couldn't take care of a child!"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before," he charged with quiet intensity. Her eyes widened in hurt. She hadn't been prepared for blame. When she was sixteen and hiding Grace from her parents, yes, but not from Gibbs at age thirty. Even aware that he didn't know about Dominic, she couldn't help feeling betrayed by his condemning glare.

She couldn't speak. The growing sense of unease, telling her that maybe she shouldn't say anything to Gibbs, had exploded into full-fledged dread and left her immobile. She wanted nothing more than to flee his penetrating stare, go somewhere private and have good cry, but her feet would not obey. Her eyes stung with tears and her throat hurt from the effort of holding them back.

Her vision blurred by tears, she didn't see Gibbs' expression slowly soften. His next comment had less of a bite to it, which constituted an apology in Gibbs-speak. "You didn't choose to go that far."

She shook her head mutely in confirmation, not trusting her voice. He looked at her for a long moment before reaching over to McGee's desk and handing her a Kleenex. She took it, appreciating that the act was as sympathetic a gesture as she was ever going to get from Gibbs. She hated being so emotional, especially in front of Gibbs, but there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it now. After dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose, she threw the tissue away and turned back to Gibbs.

"So," she began, forcing her voice to stay strong. "Are you going to tell me I should have been more careful? Taken self-defense classes? Carried mace?"

He gave her a look somewhere between reproach and, oddly, sadness. Perhaps he was troubled that she thought he was so callous. Maybe he was just irritated that she was being so disrespectful. She didn't really care. She had been hurt and no matter how nice he was now, her defenses were up.

"I would appreciate it," she bit out, her bitterness strengthening with every word, "if you didn't tell anyone." She couldn't explain why she was being so nasty to Gibbs, except perhaps that his comment, however ignorant, had touched a part of her she thought she had buried. All the fear and hurt and rage she had felt toward Dominic was resurfacing and it had no place to go but out.

Unfortunately, Gibbs didn't take well to being disrespected. "Agent Todd, you are out of line," he growled, eyes blazing. "Get that attitude in check or you _will_ be looking for another job."

Something about the familiar gruffness in his voice called her back to reality. Before she could say anything, though, the _ding!_ of the elevator caused both their heads to turn. A moment later Tony came around the corner, whistling cheerfully and oblivious to the tension in the room.

"Morning, boss," he greeted, still apparently blind to the looks on their faces. "You're in early, Kate."

"So are you, DiNozzo," Gibbs retorted sharply, sweeping past with a muttered comment about coffee.

Tony looked puzzled. "What'd I do?" he asked Kate, once Gibbs was out of earshot.

"You were born, Tony," Kate returned halfheartedly. Tony noticed her lack of enthusiasm and turned to look at her, finally realizing that she was not well.

"Kate," he started, concern edging into his voice. "Are you okay? What happened yesterday, anyway?"

"I'm fine, Tony," Kate dismissed him, before remembering that this was _Tony_; if she couldn't trust him, who could she trust? "Yesterday…I met someone. Someone I hadn't seen in…a long time."

"Old boyfriend?" Tony joked. She stiffened slightly, determined not to make the same mistake she had with Gibbs. _They didn't know. It's not their fault._

"No," she answered simply. "My…daughter."

Tony reacted much the same as Gibbs, only more obviously. His eyebrows scurried toward his hairline and his eyes widened in unrestrained surprise. "Daughter? Really?"

She nodded, waiting for his inevitable comment. She wasn't disappointed.

"You?" he asked unthinkingly.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Tony, me."

He seemed to be slowly recovering from his shock. Sputtering only slightly, he managed, "Wow, Kate. Um, congratulations. So, what's up with her?"

Kate sighed, wondering how much to tell. She settled for the bare facts. "Her adoptive parents died last week. Custody reverts to me."

Tony nodded as if he understood, but there was still confusion in his eyes. Kate ignored it; if he didn't ask, she wasn't going to tell. "That's, um, that's cool. So, how old is she? Four, five?"

Kate swallowed. She knew what he would assume, what he already assumed. Why it seemed worse when they found out she was underage she didn't know, but it did. Nevertheless, she had to answer. She wanted to answer. "She's fourteen," she said, barely above a whisper.

She could see the wheels turning as he processed the number, subtracting it from what he knew of Kate's age to come up with…Tony had the decency not to say anything as he connected the dots but when his eyes widened again, she knew that he knew.

Kate excused herself quickly and made her way to the ladies' room. Wiping her face with a damp paper towel, she stared in the mirror and gritted her teeth. _I'd better get used to it_, she thought grimly. _Everyone's going to think it._

Somehow, that happy thought didn't cheer her. She dabbed her eyes, breathing deeply to calm herself. With a depressed look at her watch, she realized that it wasn't even her usual arrival time. It was going to be a very long day.


	5. Moving Out

"A field agent's crime scene sketches should portray both the scale of the crime scene, as well as relative distances and positioning of evidence," the toupeed, bespectacled little man droned. "Any questions? No? Next we will discuss collecting and cataloguing physical evidence…"

Kate's cell phone vibrated urgently against her hip and she started slightly; the older agent's soporific voice had put her in that half-doze state familiar to all lecture recipients. Glancing around surreptitiously to see if anyone was paying attention to her, she pulled it out discreetly and checked the caller ID. The small screen displayed a number she had become quite familiar with over the past few weeks. Whatever Mr. Tompkins was calling about this early in the morning had to be important. Looking up again briefly, she slipped out the back with only Gibbs giving her a slight frown.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Kate? It's Randy Tompkins," his warm voice floated over the line. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No," she reassured him, "just a really boring seminar. The lecturer is a cross between Ben Stein and Donald Trump."

He chuckled. "Good. I just called to say that all the paperwork has gone through and you are cleared to take Grace home. When would you like to pick her up?"

"Oh," Kate stammered, caught off-guard. "Um, is Saturday okay?"

"Saturday would be wonderful. I'll let her know, and her uncle. Anything you need?"

"Not right now, thanks. See you Saturday, I guess."

"Indeed. Goodbye, Kate."

She flipped her phone closed, breathing deeply. In the three weeks since Mr. Tompkins had first called her about Grace, she had prepared her home as best she could for a teen. She knew, though, that the reality had not quite sunk in yet. The transition from free-range bachelorette to single mom would not be hers until Grace actually moved in, if then. It was an attitude, she reflected. Would she ever be able to be a mother to this girl?

People were beginning to trickle out of the room, the seminar apparently over. Gibbs spotted her and raised an eyebrow.

"What was that about?" he asked quietly. The volume didn't disguise the faint accusation in his voice.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Important call." She wasn't about to tell him it had been about Grace. He had been quite adamant when he told her that her new position in life _would not_ interfere with her work.

His eyebrow quivered slightly, as if it couldn't make up its mind about whether or not it should appear incredulous. Giving her one last squint, he apparently decided it wasn't important right now and turned to go back to work.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Kate was more nervous than a shell-shocked cat. She rushed around the house, straightening and dusting, waiting for the appropriate time to leave. When she finally got on the road, she drove almost as erratically as Gibbs and incurred almost as many angry honks. Gathering her wits enough to slow as she approached her destination, she checked house numbers with an increasing apprehension. What had she really gotten herself into?

She sighed audibly in relief as she recognized Mr. Tompkins' car in the driveway. At least this part she wouldn't have to do alone. Parking the car, she hesitated before opening the door. Slowly she walked up the path to the front door and, very slowly, knocked.

The door swung open to reveal a tall, well-built man in his mid-forties. Kate found herself reminded strongly of Gibbs as his piercing eyes (albeit brown) examined her closely in the brief moment before letting her in.

"Ah, Kate!" Mr. Tompkins called when she entered what she assumed had been the living room. "Welcome. We were just finishing up the last of the boxes."

Kate saw him kneeling on the floor next to a large box, Grace helping him tape it shut. There were two other similar boxes in the room, which was otherwise empty. Kate suddenly had a disturbing thought.

"Um, who's selling the house?" she asked worriedly, hoping desperately that the answer would not be her.

"That would be me," the man said from behind her, a touch of amused sarcasm in his voice.

"Grace," Mr. Tompkins grunted as he struggled with a piece of tape. "Would you like to introduce Kate to your uncle?"

"Oh, right," she responded. "Uncle Jack, Kate Todd. Kate Todd, Uncle Jack. He's – was – my dad's brother."

Kate nodded politely at "Uncle Jack". He returned it, still scrutinizing her. From what little Kate had seen of him, he was extraordinarily protective of his young niece and determined to make sure she would be going home with someone reliable. _Just what I need,_ she sighed inwardly. _Another Gibbs on my case._

An awkward silence was settling over the room. Kate wasn't sure what to do or say but she had to break the stillness.

"Um, can I carry anything to the car?" she asked.

"That box there," Grace directed, not looking up. Kate grabbed it, grateful for anything to do, but she had underestimated the weight.

She was still grappling with the box when it unexpectedly lost a good bit of poundage. Surprised, she looked around and noticed Uncle Jack on the other side, lifting with her. Together they maneuvered the heavy container into the trunk of her car.

"Thanks," she said appreciatively, breathing heavily.

"You're welcome," he grunted.

"You know," she began hesitantly, "I really do want what's best for Grace."

He gazed at her again, a look she was so familiar with from a different silver-haired man, and nodded slightly. "I know. You think I'd be letting you take her if I thought you didn't?"

After getting all the boxes in the car, three of them stood in the living room and stared at the floor while Mr. Tompkins rattled off a few final reminders.

"Well," he finished, "is everyone ready?"

Grace, tears in her eyes but determined not to cry, nodded. She hugged her uncle fiercely and he kissed the top of her head lightly. Kate stood with Mr. Tompkins, looking on as uncle and niece said their goodbyes.

"Kate?" Mr. Tompkins asked quietly.

She nodded, tears in her own eyes. It was time, she realized, to face the reality. She was the mother of a fourteen-year-old girl who had just faced an enormous trauma. _No one said this was going to be easy_, she reminded herself.

"Everyone ready?" Mr. Tompkins repeated.

_No_, Kate thought desperately. But she said,

"Yes."

Grace nodded again, hugging her uncle one last time, and they all headed out the door. As she and Grace got in the car, Kate was assailed by a sudden onslaught of maternal worry.

"Seatbelt," she ordered automatically. Grace gave her a look as she drew the strap across her body. Kate cringed inwardly. This was not starting well.

"So," she tried, forcing a cheerful tone, "what do you like to do?"

"I _don't_ like to talk in the car," the girl muttered stonily.

_Nosiree,_ Kate thought. _No one said this was going to be easy._


	6. Moving In

"Hey, Kate!" Abby called as the car pulled into the parking lot. The perky Goth grinned as Kate and Grace stepped out of the car. "You must be Grace."

Grace stuck out her hand somewhat hesitantly but, Kate noticed, with less trepidation than she had shown meeting Kate. Abby's personality tended to make people comfortable around her.

"I'm Abby," she introduced herself. "I work with...Kate." The pause was so brief that Kate wondered if she had imagined it, but Abby apparently faced the same difficulty as Kate. How should Grace address her?

A problem for later, she decided. Right now was the time to keep the conversation in familiar territory. "Abby's our forensic specialist. She works with everything from blood to ballistics to fibers. Oh, and a lot of our computer stuff."

"Cool," Grace nodded, and Kate felt she really meant it. _Progress,_ she cheered inwardly. _Baby steps_.

"So," Kate announced, encouraged, "let's move you in!"

They spent half an hour just getting the large, awkward boxes up three flights of stairs and into the room Kate had cleared for Grace. After some humorous pushing, pulling, and squeezing (and one frightening incident involving sweaty hands and the law of gravity), they managed to get all three into the room not much the worse for wear. Panting slightly as they surveyed the depressing sight of boxes in an empty room, they wondered vaguely what to do next.

Kate turned to Abby to thank her for helping and began giggling quietly. Grace gave her a puzzled frown before looking at Abby and chuckling along. Abby, for her part, was trying valiantly but unsuccessfully to restrain her laughter. Before long, all three were in stitches and Grace had to sit down, she was laughing so hard. Abby's hair was in its usual pigtails, but the strenuous activity had shifted them so that one sprouted almost straight from the top of her head and the other hung limply from just below her ear. Sweat had trickled down her face, smearing her mascara and leaving dark tracks down her cheeks. Kate's hair stuck out in all directions and her face was bright red from exertion. Grace's hair, too, was wild; large chunks of it lay across the remnant of her part and a few brown-blonde strands streaked her face.

The girls' giggle-fest went on for quite some time, as such things do, because every time one person would start to get a grip on themselves, something else would strike their funny bone and set them off again. Finally they arrived at a mutually sober moment and managed to stop laughing.

"Well," Abby began, after a few moments of relative silence, "is there anything else I can help with?"

"I don't think so," Kate answered, looking around. "Thanks, Abby. I appreciate your help."

"Yeah," Grace chimed in. "Me, too."

"Hey, no problem," Abby grinned. "I think it's awesome you two finally met. When Kate told me," she said to Grace, "I was so surprised, I dropped the beaker of reagent I was holding. Gibbs wasn't too happy about it," she cringed, "but it was cheap stuff."

Grace smiled. Kate wished Abby could stay around; it was so much easier to talk to Grace with someone else there. She knew she'd have to deal with Grace one-on-one eventually, of course, but for now she wished to delay the event as long as possible.

"Well," Abby concluded, "I guess I should get going. Grace, come by the office sometime. I'll show you around the lab."

"Thanks again, Abby," Kate said as she walked Abby to the door.

"No problem, Kate. See you next week."

Kate leaned against the door as she shut it, breathing deeply. This was it. _Okay_, she thought. O_ne problem at a time._

"Hey, Grace?" she called as she reentered Grace's room.

"Yeah?"

"There's something I've been wondering," Kate hesitated, unsure of how exactly to frame the question. "What do you want to call me?"

Grace gave her a look, blank but for the slightly raised eyebrow. Anxious, Kate babbled.

"I mean, I understand if you don't want to call me Mom. After all, I'm not really your mom…yet. And that's fine. But I'm not really comfortable with you calling me just Kate. It's a little too informal, if you know what I mean, and, well, I'd just prefer it if there was some sort of honorific – "

"I understand," Grace said loudly, cutting Kate off. Kate grinned sheepishly. "So…Miss Todd is kind of formal; what about Miss Kate?" Grace proposed.

Kate grimaced. "Sounds like a kindergarten teacher."

"Yeah," Grace agreed, making a matching face. "What about…Aunt Kate?"

Kate considered it. Familiar, yet appropriate; it fit. "I like it." Something about the faint grin on Grace's face made her ask, "Not trying to fix me up with your Uncle Jack now, are you?"

Grace laughed and Kate felt a thrill run through her chest. _I made her laugh!_ "No, he's kind of…taken."

"That's good. He's a little too much like my boss," Kate smirked. "Not really my type."

"Oh, yeah? What is your 'type'?" Grace asked, eyebrow raised. _Her eyebrows could give Gibbs' a run for their money, _Kate thought.

"Oh, I don't know. Tall, dark, and handsome?" Kate joked.

"So what's wrong with Uncle Jack? And, of course, your boss?" Grace probed with the cunning of a seasoned attorney.

"I never said they weren't easy on the eyes," Kate defended herself, much to Grace's mischievous delight.

"So," Grace started, getting slightly more serious, "wanna help me unpack?"


	7. Take Your Daughter to Work Day

"No, no, no, no, no!" Kate moaned, thumping her head against the wall for good measure.

"What?" Grace asked from the floor, her nose buried in a book.

"Mrs. Klein is sick," Kate explained with a sigh.

"So?"

"So I can't leave you here alone," Kate declared. "I'll have to call someone else."

"Come on! I'm fourteen, for Pete's sake; I can take care of myself. All Mrs. Klein does is watch me read or drive me to the pool, which, I'd like to point out, is within walking distance," Grace, suddenly animated, argued.

"Grace, it's not about whether or not you can take care of yourself; it's about safety. What if you fell and broke your arm? How would you get to a hospital? I'm not leaving you here alone."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Grace grumbled.

"No, but I want someone to check up on you," Kate called over her shoulder as she dialed. "Hello, Janice? Mrs. Klein is sick today and I have to go to work in half an hour. Would you be able to check on Grace every now and then?...Oh, I see…Okay. Well, thanks anyway. Bye."

Grace was grinning impishly as Kate hung up the phone. "Oh, well. I guess there's nothing else you can do," she sang.

Kate frowned, thinking. There was one thing…but no, Gibbs would kill her. On the other hand, she really didn't have a choice. "Say, Grace, you remember Abby?"

"Sure," Grace answered, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Why?"

"Well, she did say you could come by the lab sometime…" Kate trailed, smiling meaningfully. Grace shrugged. "Great. Do you need anything?"

Grace held up her book in response. Kate nodded, grabbed her keys, and ushered Grace out the door.

"Remember, don't let Gibbs see you, don't get in Abby's way, do what she tells you, don't go off and explore on your own, don't talk to Tony –"

"Aunt Kate," Grace interrupted, "I get it. I got it the first five times. Sit in the corner and pretend I don't exist."

"That's not what I –" Kate started, cut off this time by the blast of music that welcomed them to the lab.

"Hey, nice tunes," Grace commented, bobbing her head ever-so-slightly to the rhythm.

"Abby, I need a favor," Kate hissed, glancing around for Gibbs.

"Sure, Kate," Abby grinned. "Will you owe me?"

"Big time. Listen, the lady who usually watches Grace for me is sick so I brought her in. If Gibbs finds out, he'll be…well, Gibbs. Could you let her hang out her for the day? She's pretty quiet and I'll try to come by and check on her when I can."

"Hey, no problem! Grace-ster and I'll have a blast. Here, Grace, let me show you my centrifuge…"

Kate left them happily chatting about forensics and went upstairs.

Grace got along well with Abby. Sometimes Abby would tell her what she was doing, step by step, and sometimes she just let her read quietly in the corner. It was during one of these quiet (well, relatively quiet; Abby's music was always blaring) moments that a man burst into the room, skidding ever so slightly on the tile floor. Excepting his unorthodox entrance, he appeared rather calm. Strolling nonchalantly over to where Abby was working, he tapped her on the shoulder and jumped back as she whirled around violently.

"Oh, hey, Tony," she greeted, turning the music down. "What's up?"

"Kate caught me going through her trash again," he shrugged.

Abby laughed. "Tony, you remind me of a guy I dated."

"How's that?"

"I caught him taking personal products out of my trash. He said he wanted something to remember me by."

"Hey, I'm not a creep. I'm a cop. It's instinctive," he grinned. "Anyway, can I just hang out here for a while?"

"Sure. By the way, this is Grace," Abby introduced.

"Hi, Grace. Tony DiNozzo," he said, waving slightly. "You a friend of Abby's?"

"Yeah," Grace answered, not really wanting to get into the details of her parentage. Besides, Abby _was_ her friend.

Tony wandered aimlessly around the lab, poking occasionally at various machinery and gazing at the newest additions to Abby's décor. Grace watched him intently, curious about the people Kate worked with.

"So," she began, trying to sound casual, "this Kate get on your case often?"

Tony turned to face her, a slightly puzzled look on his face as if he couldn't figure out why she would care. "Yeah, sort of."

"Sounds like real piece of work," Grace prodded.

Tony grinned mischievously. "You bet. She's really anal when it comes to her personal property. I mean, all I did was try to take a message for her. But did she thank me? Nooo, she goes on about how I shouldn't be touching her phone. And she also has a thing –"

"Tony," Abby warned, eyes glued to a microscope.

He ignored her. "And she also has this thing about analyzing people. Like a shrink. Okay, sure, she's a profiler, but does she have to read something into everything I do? I see a pretty girl and ask for a date, it's because I've got unresolved issues with my mother? Come on!"

"Boy, Tony, you must have a lot of unresolved issues there," Abby quipped, grinning. He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't listen to him," she said to Grace. "He's just upset because Gibbs said something nice to Kate yesterday."

"Speak of the devil," Tony muttered, suddenly trying to look purposeful.

"Abby, you got the blood results yet?" barked an irritable silver-haired man, striding in to the room. Kate was right behind him, looking a bit frightened. Grace suddenly understood why Kate had been so paranoid about this man finding her in the office. He was scarily intense.

"Not quite," Abby said brightly, "but I'm getting close."

"DiNozzo distracting you?" Gibbs asked, giving Tony something akin to a death glare.

"Nah, Gibbs. You know I wouldn't let Tony distract me. You, on the other hand…" Abby winked. Gibbs ignored the comment and turned to Tony.

"What _are_ you doing here, DiNozzo?"

"Just, ah, just came for…the blood results, boss," Tony improvised quickly. Gibbs' eyes narrowed, sensing deception but unsure if it warranted punishment. He soon found another source for questioning.

"Who's this?" he directed at Abby, staring at Grace.

Abby suddenly looked unsure. "She's, um, she's…" she stalled.

"She's what?" Gibbs growled.

"She's mine," Kate spoke up, a determined look on her face.

Gibbs' eyes shifted from Kate to Grace and he nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. What is she doing here?"

"The lady who usually watches her got sick and none of the neighbors were going to be around. I thought since we didn't have too much going on, she could just hang out here for the day. I didn't have anywhere else to take her and she's really no trouble and I couldn't leave her alone in the apartment –"

Gibbs held up his hand to stop her. "This won't be a regular arrangement."

"No, of course not," Kate answered his non-question, relieved that he didn't seem too angry.

Gibbs nodded, satisfied, and turned to leave. "Get that blood done, Abs!" he called over his shoulder.

"Right away, bossman!" she mock-saluted before turning back to her work.

"Wait, so she's – you're – she's," Tony stammered, looking from Grace to Kate. "_She's_ the one? She's mini-Kate?"

"Yes, Tony," Kate sighed. "You doing okay, Grace?"

"I'm fine. I'd be better if everyone would stop talking about me like I wasn't here," Grace replied resentfully.

"Sorry. I guess you've met Tony. Don't listen to a word he says," Kate warned. "I gotta get back to work. You sure you're okay here?"

"I'm fine," Grace repeated, this time with a tinge of exasperation.

"Okay. See you later." Kate turned to leave, giving Grace one last word of advice. "Don't let Tony touch your stuff!"

"See what I mean?" Tony muttered once Kate was out of earshot. "Way too possessive."

"I don't think Gibbs is too happy about me being here," Grace confessed.

"Ah, don't worry. Gibbs is always a hardnose. Actually, I think he likes you," Tony admitted.

"If that's what he's like when he likes someone, I'd hate to see him mad," Grace mused.

"Yeah, you would. Trust me, if he didn't want you here, you would've been gone the minute he saw you," Tony said, his tone far more serious than anything Grace had so far heard from him.


	8. Confessions and Caviar

"Hey, Kate, you bringing anyone to the benefit tonight?"

"Just Grace," Kate replied warily. "You?"

"Well, I can't decide between the blonde I met yesterday and the redhead I took out last night. They're both really hot," he mused, "but the blonde has a temper problem and the redhead cost me most of this month's paycheck. What do you think?"

"Tony, you are so immature!" Kate burst out, exasperated.

"Oh, Kate," Tony sighed, shaking his head in mock pity, "you're just figuring that out?"

"No," she replied, glaring at him. "I'm just telling you. Why do you act like a horny thirteen-year-old every time a female is around?" Her question was not new and was born more of irritation than interest but Tony put on a thoughtful face and pretended to consider it seriously.

"Hmm." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe it's because I'm looking for that 'special someone'. How will I know if I don't try?"

"What?" Kate added confusion to her frustration.

"Well, what if Miss Right is out there somewhere? I don't want to miss her so I gotta try all the samples."

"You must be joking."

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

"What about a serious relationship? What about commitment?"

A subtle change crossed Tony's face, suggesting for the tiniest moment that he'd heard that argument for the last time. "Yeah, Kate, 'cause I'm the single parent," he said nastily.

Kate's face hardened and she turned away from Tony. She didn't see the briefest look of regret flicker in his eyes before being replaced by a mask of indifference. The stony silence prevailed until Gibbs entered, sucking loudly at his near-empty coffee cup.

"What'd you do to DiNozzo, Kate?" he asked sarcastically. "He hasn't been this quiet since Abby and Ducky told him about –"

Kate's cell phone rang. She ripped it off her belt, perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary, and answered, "Kate Todd."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, threw his now-empty cup in the trash, and slid behind his computer.

"Grace, I told you not to call me at work," Kate hissed, sounding more worried than angry. "Are you all right?"

Tony threw the phone a dirty look, Gibbs frowned slightly, and Kate listened intently.

"Grace, I'll take care of it when I get home. Love you," Kate finished, slowly hanging up the phone. She was determinedly not looking at Gibbs.

"I need to talk to Ducky," Gibbs muttered, standing. "You two keep working."

As soon as Gibbs was out of earshot, Kate turned to Tony, eyes blazing. "You had no right to drag Grace into it."

"Don't you think it's just a little hypocritical of you to say my relationships are shallow?" Tony argued. "You obviously had a little trouble committing, yourself."

Kate's face was a tormented mixture of anger and hurt. "Did you ever think," she bit out, "that maybe it wasn't my fault?"

Tony rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, presumably to give some sort of lecture on taking responsibility, but Kate cut him off.

"I didn't choose to go that far!" she hissed, unconsciously echoing Gibbs' earlier words to her.

"Kate, I," Tony started, his surprise apparent. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." If Kate hadn't been so furious at him, she would have laughed at the almost overblown look of shock on his face. In her current mood, though, she decided that it was due recompense for his earlier words.

"Well, now you do," Kate replied, unwilling to forgive him just yet.

* * *

"Why am I going to this, again?" Grace asked, struggling into a skirt.

"Because it's for charity," Kate answered, applying her makeup. "And because you need to get out of the house. And because I want you to."

"Oh. Right."

"Come on, Grace; it'll be fun. You can see Abby again and maybe meet more of my coworkers."

"Like your charming boss?" Grace quipped. Kate rolled her eyes.

"Behave," she warned jokingly.

"Kate, Grace," Tony greeted, grinning widely. "This is Brenda."

Kate nodded in acknowledgement, watching Grace out of the corner of her eye. She hadn't yet seen the girl in a social situation and wondered how she would act. She needn't have worried.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Grace chirped, curtsying lightly. Kate wondered if anyone else noticed the faintest note of sarcasm in her voice.

"Oh, what a _darling_!" Brenda shrieked, startling everyone within earshot. "Did your mother teach you that!"

Grace was caught briefly off-guard but recovered admirably. "No, ma'am. My dad did." This greatly delighted Brenda (though this seemed to require rather little effort) and she took Grace aside, giggling.

"Went with the redhead, I see," Kate muttered to Tony.

"Yeah. Isn't she great?" Kate actually turned to look at him, sure he must have been joking, but his face showed nothing other than pleasure as he gazed at his date. Kate rolled her eyes and went to rescue Grace from the clutches of the red-headed-but-nonetheless-inwardly-blonde Brenda.

"Sorry about that," Kate apologized, leading Grace toward the buffet line.

"Good thing I'm such a little socialite," Grace teased, helping herself to the food.

"Ah, Caitlin!" a familiar British accent called. "And who is this lovely young lady?"

"Ducky!" Kate greeted enthusiastically. "This is Grace."

"Ah, Grace," Ducky said knowingly, "what a pleasure to finally meet you. Have you tried the pâté?"

"Ew," Grace said simply.

Ducky chuckled. "Oh, my dear, it is entirely your loss. Pâté is an exquisite French delight, somewhat akin to caviar in its association with luxury. Speaking of caviar, did you know that while the delicacy itself is originally Russian, the word has quite the interesting etymology? Yes, it came into English by a, one might say, byzantine route. Ha, an appropriate adjective as Turkish played –" Ducky stopped, noting the slight glazing in Grace's eyes. "But that is a history for another time. Caitlin, I believe Jethro was looking for you earlier."

"Oh," Kate said, shaking herself inwardly. "Um, will you two…"

"Yeah, Aunt Kate," Grace assured her. "We'll be fine."

"Not to worry," Ducky waved cheerfully. "So, Grace, how are you doing?"

Grace was a little surprised by the sudden change of subject and attitude but found herself trusting this man implicitly. He reminded her of Mr. Tompkins, who had been such a supportive character in the past weeks, and of her…well, Mrs. O'Neill's father. His compassion was refreshing, too; no one besides Aunt Kate had yet asked how she was taking the entire situation.

"Not too bad," she replied honestly. "Considering."

"Yes," he nodded, eyes telling her that he really did understand. "I suppose so. I am sorry, Grace, that you had to experience such loss so early. I will not pretend to know your pain."

"Thank you," Grace said, trying to keep a lump from forming in her throat.

"I can't say I'm not glad you've come to us, though," he said with more of a smile. "You, my dear, are a wonderful addition to our small family. I look forward to getting to know you better."

"You, too," Grace replied sincerely as Kate reappeared.

"You guys seem to be getting along well."

"Indeed, Caitlin. Your daughter is a delightful young woman." Ducky smiled conspiratorially at Grace and gave her a small wink. Grace smiled back, knowing that she had found at least one confidante in this new world in which she now found herself.


	9. Two Lunches

"He didn't!" Grace breathed, astounded.

"You can ask him yourself," Kate insisted, widening her eyes for effect. "Tony's always doing stupid stuff like that. Everything they say about girls maturing faster than guys? It's true."

"So, when a guy does something really dumb," Grace began, trying to appear casual while twisting her fingers nervously in the grass, "it's normal?"

Taking a bite of her sandwich to allow herself time to formulate a response, Kate hid a smile as she chewed. It sounded to her like Grace had a little crush. "It is completely normal," she reassured the teen. "Not only that, but it may mean he likes you," she added with a conspiratorial smile.

Grace ducked her head embarrassedly. "I…don't think so."

"So, who is this guy?" Kate pressed. "School friend?"

"Yeah," Grace responded, her face slowly clouding. "Or at least, he was."

Kate could almost feel the chill settle over their little picnic. Wonderful. Grace had been adjusting quite well over the past few weeks, the short spells of anger and unease tempered by increasingly satisfying periods of bonding – if not as mother and daughter, at least as friends. Kate's work occupied a considerable amount of time, but a grudgingly understanding Gibbs had granted her weekends as semi-sacred time. Kate had come to look forward to their almost weekly picnics in various parks around the area and she was pretty sure Grace enjoyed the time together as well, even if she didn't always show it.

Now, though, was turning into a 'little moment'. Grace's stony silences were no longer as frequent but their occurrences were nevertheless not enjoyable times in the small household. Kate sighed and began to clean up the area. Progress and bonding were out of the question during these periods.

She opened her mouth to ask Grace to help but reconsidered. The girl was already in a lot of pain, obviously, and it was mostly Kate's fault. Why add to it? She had been struggling with this question since Grace had first come to live with her. Her instinct to be a firm disciplinarian was curbed by her sympathy for Grace's situation.

When they got back to the apartment, Grace went straight to her room and shut the door with slightly more force than necessary. Kate sighed again (she seemed to be sighing a lot lately) and took their picnic gear to the kitchen. After she cleaned up, she noticed yesterday's mail sitting on the table and decided it was time to deal with it. Sifting through the usual junk, she arrived at the phone bill and slit it open…and her eyes widened in shock.

"What the…" she muttered to herself. _719? What area code is that?_ The unknown number had been dialed several times, the calls lasting a considerable amount of time. They appeared to be the main contributor to the hefty sum at the top of the bill.

"Grace!" Kate called, trying not to sound angry. And she wasn't angry…yet.

"Yeah?" Grace answered, shuffling into the room indifferently.

"Do you recognize this number?" Kate asked, showing Grace the bill.

"Sure. That's Uncle Jack."

Kate tried to keep her rising frustration in check. "Were you going to tell me about these long distance calls you've been making?"

Grace shrugged, eyes defiant. "I dunno."

"Young lady, I'm not made of money," Kate said firmly.

"Fine. I'll cut off all contact with my former life," Grace snapped back.

"I don't mind you calling your uncle, Grace," Kate said, softening slightly. "I just want you to ask me first."

"Whatever."

Something else occurred to Kate. "Why were you calling him anyway?"

Grace shrugged again, looking down.

"Come on, Grace. I'm won't be mad," Kate pushed.

"Because he understands me," Grace mumbled, still staring at her feet.

Kate sat back, stunned. She shouldn't be, she knew, but it still hurt that Grace didn't feel like she could talk to her. It was just more confirmation that their relationship would take a lot of time and work.

"Grace," she began, "I'm sorry you don't feel like you can talk to me. I want to talk to you; I want to understand you. Will you let me try?"

Grace looked at her incredulously, trademark eyebrow on the rise.

"Tell you what," Kate suggested, "every time you need to call your Uncle Jack, try to talk to me about it first. If that doesn't work out, then you can call him. On that new calling card we'll be buying you," she added in consideration of her wallet. "Sound good?"

Grace considered it briefly, then nodded. "Okay, deal."

Peace reigned in the apartment…for about two days. Kate was feeling good about Grace, work, herself – life in general – and decided to take Grace out to dinner to celebrate their newfound (and, admittedly, awkwardly fledgling) ability to talk. Grace agreed readily and they found themselves at a cozy Italian restaurant that evening. The conversation was going smoothly, until…

"Aunt Kate," Grace started hesitantly, "what happened to my father?"

Kate froze, forkful of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. Lowering the utensil slowly, she wondered what on earth she could say. She wasn't ready to tell Grace the truth but she didn't want to lie.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, settling for dodging the question.

Grace didn't fall for it but something, perhaps the pain in Kate's eyes, made her back off. "Just curious," she answered, shrugging with unconvincing indifference.

"Huh," Kate responded, unsure of what else to say.

"What was his name?" Grace asked, looking torn between curiosity and restraint.

"Grace," Kate sighed painfully, "can we please not talk about this now?"

"I promise I'll drop it, just," Grace pleaded, "what was his name?"

Kate knew the girl had a right to know. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "Dom…Dominic Fleming," she breathed.

Grace's face said she had a million more questions but, true to her word, she returned silently to her pasta. Except for brief comments on the meal, they said nothing for the rest of the evening.

"Hey, Tony," Kate called. "Ducky and I are going out for lunch. Wanna come?"

Tony looked over at her, then back at his computer screen. "Actually, Kate, I have an interview with a witness."

Kate's surprise was evident. "You're opting for work over lunch?"

"I _was_ trained by Gibbs, you know," he tossed back unconvincingly.

"Yeah, and that's had such an effect on your work ethic before," she retorted sarcastically.

"Well, maybe I'm more mature than you think," Tony replied, still not satisfying Kate. She approached his desk, craning her neck to see his computer. He swiveled the monitor away from her, swatting at her hands as she tried to turn it back.

"Hey! You're invading my privacy, here," he barked.

"Oh, you're one to talk, Tony," she said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, what's on that screen?"

"Nothing!" he insisted, holding up his hands as if to show her he had nothing to hide. She took advantage of his motion to grab the monitor and twist it into a viewable position.

"Aha! Is that your witness?" she crowed, eyeing the photo of a young and well-endowed blonde.

"Yes," Tony muttered sullenly, sore at being beaten by Kate.

"Well, now I know why you don't want to come to lunch," Kate snorted. "Have fun."

She grabbed her purse and headed toward the elevator. The doors opened to reveal Ducky, out of his scrubs, apparently coming to get her.

"Ah, Caitlin," he said, beckoning her into the car. "Is Tony joining us?"

"Nah, he has a 'witness' to interview," Kate smirked.

Ducky chuckled. "Of course. The two of us it is, then. I hope you have a taste for Thai food. I know a delightful little place not too far from here. You know, of course, that Thailand was once known as Siam…"

Kate listened with half an ear, her mind mostly on Grace. The girl had been questioning Kate more and more about her father and Kate was running out of things to tell her. Even if she was able to talk about the Incident, she was convinced that telling Grace she was the product of rape was not a good idea. But she kept asking…

Something of her distress must have shown on her face, because Ducky suddenly stopped talking and gazed into her eyes concernedly.

"How are things going with Grace?" he asked sincerely. His tone was different than that of most people when they asked that question; Kate could tell he really wanted to know and wasn't just asking for conversation's sake.

She sighed heavily. "It's a bit of a roller coaster, to be honest. One minute we're talking and laughing, the next she won't speak to me because I took away the life she's always known. I'm just trying to hang on at this point. And now," Kate added, because she trusted Ducky, "she keeps asking about her father. I don't know what to tell her." Kate didn't elaborate. She trusted Ducky but hadn't yet felt comfortable telling him about Grace's origin.

Ducky nodded seriously. "May I tell you a story, Caitlin?"

Kate hid a smile despite her current angst. Ducky rarely asked permission to tell a story. "Sure, Ducky," she agreed.

"I once knew a young lady, about, oh, 15 years ago. She was a beautiful woman and many of her male colleagues were very interested in her. One night, she went out with a fellow she found quite attractive. He was not a particularly scrupulous young man, though, and after he had consumed a considerable amount of alcohol, my friend was beginning to get concerned about his intentions. Indeed, he soon became belligerent and forced himself on her. She fought but being rather petite and slightly inebriated herself, there was really nothing she could do. About a month later, she realized that she was with child."

Kate gawked at Ducky. How did he know? She found that she didn't really mind that he knew; in fact, it was kind of comforting.

"Caitlin," he continued, "if you ever need to talk about anything, you know where to find a willing ear."

"Thanks, Ducky," she replied honestly, tears threatening to form. "Really." He smiled supportively at her.

"Oh, my, would you look at the time!" he commented, glancing at his watch. "I'd quite lost track. Well, my dear, I suppose Jethro will be wanting us back. Shall we?"

Kate took his proffered arm and walked back to the car with him. She found herself, like Grace at the benefit, grateful for a friend in this ordeal.


	10. Problems Begin

"You're late."

"I know. I'm sorry," Kate apologized, setting her things down quickly.

Gibbs waited a moment before pressing. "Care to explain?"

_Not really,_ Kate thought. She couldn't say that, though. Instead, she sighed slightly before coming out with, "We were out of cereal."

Again, Gibbs paused as if waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he pressed again. "And?"

"I had to go get some from the store." Kate saw the look of disbelief creeping over her boss' face and launched into a nervous explanation. "We didn't have anything else to eat except oatmeal and some leftover pizza. Grace is allergic to oatmeal, I had to go out and buy some more cereal."

"What's wrong with cold pizza?" Gibbs asked, the smallest of twinkles in his eye suggesting that he was done grilling her and was now just kidding around. As much as Gibbs ever kidded, that is.

Kate either missed the twinkle or chose to ignore it. "Gibbs, she's a growing girl. She needs a bit more nutrition in the morning than cold pizza."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at this maternal vehemence from his subordinate. She _sounded_ like a mother. Shaking his head slightly in wonderment, he moved on.

"Tony's talking to Abby about the semen. McGee's working on the computer. You're with me; we're going to talk to the victim." Gibbs watched Kate carefully, scrutinizing her every move.

Kate could feel his eyes on her and determined not to react. She knew, objectively, that he wasn't going to fire her for being late, but it still always felt like he was judging her, constantly weighing whether or not she was fit to continue working with him.

The victim lived in a modest brownstone just outside the base. The drive there was silent, though Kate could swear she saw Gibbs watching her out of the corner of his eye. She just focused on the road. When they arrived at the house, Gibbs did his usual visual sweep of the area before turning to Kate.

"Let me do the talking, okay?"

Kate was surprised but wasn't about to argue with Gibbs. "Yeah, sure. You're the boss."

Gibbs squinted at her as if to make sure she really agreed, then knocked briskly. After a couple of moments, they heard hurried footsteps and an exasperated, "Just a minute!"

"Mrs. Schroeder," Gibbs greeted when the door finally opened. "We just have a few more questions for you."

The harried woman looked from Kate to Gibbs in confusion. Reddened eyes suggested she'd been crying recently. "Agent Gibbs? What more could you ask?"

"Just a few more questions, Mrs. Schroeder," Gibbs repeated. "It won't take long."

"Okay," Mrs. Schroeder replied, still looking unsure of the situation. "Come in, I guess."

As they settled on the couch, Kate found herself instinctively observing the area. The walls were covered in photos of Lieutenant and Mrs. Schroeder, the living room comfortably disheveled, the kitchen invitingly bright. Mrs. Schroeder herself looked less than her best; she had obviously been crying and appeared not to have slept for several days. The woman reminded Kate disconcertingly of herself in appearance and attitude.

"Mrs. Schroeder, do you know Kevin Underhill?" Gibbs began, his tone gentle but unyielding.

"No," she shook her head, frowning, "why?"

Gibbs ignored her question. "Could you tell us again what happened that night?"

A fleeting, pained look crossed her face and she took a deep, shuddering breath before nodding. "I went to a bar. I was lonely; I wanted to be around people. A man approached me and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He seemed harmless, though, so I let him dance with me. Then he started toward the door, dragging me along. I was starting to get a little worried, but his grip was so tight…"

"Why didn't you leave as soon as you realized he was drunk?" Kate burst out vehemently, surprising herself as much as Mrs. Schroeder and Gibbs.

"I…I thought he was harmless, like I said. He seemed like a friendly drunk." Mrs. Schroeder looked frightened, Kate's outburst having shocked her into uncertainty.

"It's all right, Mrs. Schroeder," Gibbs assured her. "Please continue."

"He had me by the wrist and he pulled me out the door and started into a back alley. I tried to twist away but his grip was like iron. He got me into the alley and I begged him not to hurt me but he was getting angry. He slapped me and –"

"Why didn't you scream for help?" Kate blurted angrily. "Why didn't you fight harder? Why did you let him take you out of the bar?"

"Kate!" Gibbs barked, eyes blazing. Kate slowly realized that she was standing over Mrs. Schroeder, yelling at the woman, tears streaming from her eyes. Gibbs, too, was standing, apparently ready to restrain her. Poor Mrs. Schroeder looked more frightened than ever, eyes wide and mouth quivering.

"Go wait in the truck, Agent Todd," Gibbs ordered quietly, watching her carefully. Kate silently obeyed, unable to apologize to Mrs. Schroeder or acknowledge her unprofessional behavior.

She hoisted herself into the passenger side of the truck and shut the door numbly, still not quite understanding what had happened. Suddenly, the emotions caught up to her and she started crying. Unable to stop the great heaving sobs, she buried her head in her hands and let the tears come. She hadn't cried like this since she was little.

Before long she had exhausted both her lungs and her tear ducts and leaned against the window, squeezing her eyes shut and breathing deeply. She tried to contain the emotions that had broken out after their fourteen-year captivity, unsuccessfully. She hadn't allowed herself to feel this deeply for a long time.

By the time Gibbs came out to the car Kate was dozing fitfully in her seat, completely worn out by her emotional outburst. She woke up when he slammed his door but kept her eyes closed and her breathing deep; she didn't want to talk to Gibbs right now. She was a terrible actress and she knew it, but if Gibbs noticed anything amiss he didn't mention it. Maybe he didn't want to talk, either. More likely he was too angry at her unprofessional behavior to speak.

The drive back was almost unbelievably quiet. Even when Kate dared to sit up, Gibbs maintained the stony silence and refused to look at her. Kate certainly wasn't about to start the conversation, so they both continued to pretend the other wasn't in the car. The three-hour trip seemed like an eternity.

When they finally arrived back at headquarters, there were only three cars in the parking lot. Kate recognized hers, Gibbs', and (she was fairly certain) Director Morrow's.

"I didn't realize it was so late," Kate commented. She hadn't really meant to say anything but the stillness begged to be filled.

Gibbs still wouldn't look at her and acknowledged her comment only with a small grunt. Kate tried to discern his expression – futilely, as always. She _really_ didn't want to ask, but she had to know…

"Should I come in tomorrow?" she whispered, staring at the ground.

Gibbs glared at her; there was no other word for it. She could feel his penetrating gaze burning through the top of her head. Finally, after what felt like hours, he responded.

"Yeah," he nodded, squinting unhappily. "And bring Grace."

Kate knew the surprise was apparent on her face but Gibbs apparently didn't feel she needed to know more. She wasn't about to argue.

Gibbs walked briskly to his car and squealed out of the parking lot, leaving Kate alone by her vehicle. She cursed her inability to control herself and wondered, seriously, if she would have a job by this time tomorrow.


	11. Grace's Discovery

"Why does he want me to come?" Grace asked, slightly worried. She hadn't seen much of Gibbs but what she had seen suggested he wasn't they type to call for a social chat. She had agreed readily last night, mostly for the opportunity to see Abby and Ducky again, but she was growing steadily more nervous as they drove.

"I don't know. Maybe –" Kate stopped herself.

"Maybe what?" Grace had inherited her mother's curiosity.

Kate sighed. Why not? "I was late to work yesterday because of the whole cereal fiasco. Gibbs wasn't exactly mad, but then I made a really big mistake interviewing someone. He's already not happy about our situation, and yesterday…well, I think maybe he wants to talk to both of us. Set some parameters."

Grace nodded, though more in acknowledgement than understanding. _Great_, she thought. _Aunt Kate's hard-as-nails boss wants to talk about rules. This'll be fun._

Gibbs was not at his desk when they arrived, so Kate sent Grace to Abby's lab to hang out. Grace was all too happy to postpone the moment where she would have to face the frustrated former Marine. Approaching the lab, she was surprised to hear no loud music blaring. According to Kate, Abby always played her music at almost unbelievable decibels. If there was no noise, there was no Abby.

Disappointed, Grace changed direction and headed downstairs. She hadn't been to see Ducky in his lair before but following the hall signs wasn't too difficult. The elevator opened right in front of Autopsy and Grace walked in, pleased with herself for finding the way.

Voices were floating in the air, slightly distorted by the strange acoustics of the room. Grace was fairly certain she could identify Ducky's voice, though, coming from what appeared to be a small office of sorts. Not wanting to interrupt, she crept back toward the elevator. Until, that is, she heard her own name.

"It's certainly not fair to Grace," Ducky was saying. Grace couldn't help herself; she listened.

"I _know_ that, Ducky," an exasperated voice groused. It sounded like it might be Agent Gibbs. "But if this keeps happening…"

"Jethro, they just need a little time," Ducky replied, confirming Grace's suspicion about the identity of the second speaker. "Settling in to new routines isn't easy, for anyone. I'm sure the tardiness will stop before too long."

There was an odd sound of moving air that Grace realized must be Gibbs sighing. "You know what's really weird? The late thing doesn't bother me so much."

"You, Jethro?" Ducky wondered aloud, his tone a cross between surprise and amused sarcasm.

"Yeah, I know," Gibbs laughed slightly before sobering again. "But after yesterday, I'm more worried about her psych status. You should have seen her, Duck, screaming at that woman. If she hadn't been crying so hard, I would've thought she was going to hit her. It was unnerving. I mean, Kate of all people!"

"Yes, it is disturbing, isn't it? Poor Caitlin has never allowed herself to face what happened to her, to feel emotion regarding it, and thus she has never truly healed. Grace's arrival has caused all the memories and emotions that she had not dealt with adequately fourteen years ago to resurface."

"I understand that; I just don't know if I can let her keep working after this. Her judgment is seriously impaired."

"Once she truly allows herself to feel the emotions, she will be able to deal with them and move on."

"And you say you're not a shrink," Gibbs commented wryly. Ducky chuckled lightly before Gibbs continued in a troubled voice. "I can't just take her off every rape case we get. What if she hauls off and socks a suspect during an interrogation? We can't risk the legal consequences."

"Your concerns are certainly valid, Jethro. However, you must understand that her anger is not at the rapist. She is angry at herself for, in her mind, allowing it to happen. In fact, very little of her emotion has to do with the rapist at all. It's a very internal crime, as far as emotional fallout."

Grace stepped backwards, shocked at the revelation. Aside from feeling terrible for Kate's violation, it didn't take a giant leap of imagination to connect the dots. Fourteen years ago? No wonder Kate was so reticent about Dominic Fleming.

Unaware of her surroundings, Grace backed right into a surgical table. The contents clattered noisily and she cringed, anticipating her inevitable discovery. The voices ceased abruptly and the two men scurried out of the office, looking around for the source of the racket.

Grace was standing sheepishly among an assortment of stainless steel surgical implements, her face trying to decide between an expression of shame and one of defiance. It settled, somewhat in the middle, on shock.

"Oh, dear," sighed Ducky, eyes deeply sympathetic.

"Grace," Gibbs addressed her more straightforwardly, "let's go upstairs. We need to talk to Kate."

Grace didn't respond but when Gibbs put his hand on her shoulder and guided her gently toward the door, she followed docilely. The elevator ride upstairs was silent, as was the interminable walk to Kate's desk. Grace was coming out of her shocked state and beginning to get a little miffed. Why had Kate not told her? She knew, rationally, that it had been for her own protection but it still hurt that her…mother…didn't think she could handle the information.

She also realized why Aunt Kate had taken her back. Of course she hadn't wanted Grace as a baby; it wasn't as if she'd planned to have a child. But now, fourteen years later, she felt guilty about abandoning her child and was absolving her guilt by reclaiming Grace.

They finally came to a halt in front of Kate's desk, Gibbs' hand still on Grace's shoulder. Kate looked up, startled, as Gibbs cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Gibbs!" she exclaimed. Grace's presence and their serious expressions told her that this was not a pleasure call. "What's the matter?"

Gibbs' tone gave away nothing as he said seriously, "We need to talk. All of us."


	12. Problems Discussed

"First of all," Gibbs continued, "why don't you tell Kate what you heard."

Grace realized it was not a request. She cleared her throat, more to give herself time to string together a coherent though than anything else, and said simply, "I know where I came from."

Kate's eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock and horror. She had intended to tell Grace eventually, of course, just not nearly so soon. To be confronted with it not only so soon but so unexpectedly was…disconcerting.

"Grace, I…" she started, completely at a loss for words. "How?" It was probably the least important question right now, but it was all she could come up with.

Gibbs cleared his throat in what, from someone else, could have been construed as embarrassment. "Ducky and I were talking."

Kate wasn't sure what to make of that. She was far too confused, upset, scared, and generally emotionally screwed up right now. She settled for getting angry; it seemed to work for Gibbs. "You were talking about my personal life?"

Grace, even in her shocked state, cringed at the tone in Kate's voice. Fortunately, Gibbs seemed to realize the source of Kate's outburst and merely raised an eyebrow.

"No, Kate," he replied coolly, "we were discussing your work habits."

The subtle admonishment subdued Kate enough for her to think more coherently. Grace, meanwhile, was growing impatient in her uncertainty.

"Look," she said, "if you want to take me back, I understand."

"What?" Kate asked, startled.

"I understand," Grace repeated. "I mean, you never wanted me in the first place. That's why you gave me up. You just took me in now because you feel guilty."

"Guilty?" Kate parroted, not following.

"For giving me up in the first place," Grace reasoned. She was beyond hurt and angry; now she was coldly composed. "And probably because my parents died, too."

Kate sat in shocked silence, not believing what she had just heard. "Is that what you think?" she managed.

"It's pretty obvious," Grace shrugged, clearly trying to distance herself emotionally. Kate felt like crying.

"Grace," she struggled, squeezing the words around the lump in her throat. "I put you up for adoption because I was sixteen years old. I couldn't take care of a child. I couldn't even let anyone know I was pregnant."

"Whatever," Grace sighed.

"No, Grace, not 'whatever'," Kate burst out, suddenly animated. "Listen to me. I took you in because you are my daughter. I want you. I love you, Grace!"

Kate slowly realized she was gripping Grace by the shoulders, so eager was she to get her point across. Grace's eyes shone with unshed tears, her expression indicating they were tears of emotion and not of pain. Kate, taking advantage of her hold on Grace, pulled her daughter into a hug, blinking back her own tears. The hug seemed to give Grace permission to relinquish control of her emotions and she clutched Kate fiercely, weeping quietly into her shoulder. Kate felt for her and wished she could take away the pain Grace must be feeling but at the same time she rejoiced at this breakthrough. Grace had never shown so much emotional abandon around Kate; Kate couldn't help the bittersweet thrill at this new trust.

Gibbs, forgotten by both, cleared his throat lightly. They pulled apart and looked at him. Had it not been such a serious moment, Gibbs might have smiled at their twin expressions of expectant puzzlement. It might not be immediately apparent that the two were mother and daughter, but there was no mistaking that they were related.

"I hate to break up this moment of familial bonding," he commented, strangely not sarcastic. "But we do have to discuss how this new…situation affects Kate's work."

"I thought we already had," Kate replied, eyes drying in the conversation's change of pace.

"Yeah," Gibbs conceded, "but some things have happened since then that make me think we need to reevaluate."

Kate frowned slightly. When Gibbs used jargon like 'reevaluate' it meant he was out of his element, slightly uncomfortable with the situation. And when Gibbs was uncertain, he was one step away from explosion. In short, tread lightly.

"First," Gibbs continued, "you've been late."

"Not very often," Kate protested.

"I know," Gibbs stopped her with a hand. "But it makes you unreliable." He paused, taking in her half-ashamed half-affronted expression. "I don't blame you," he reassured her, looking awkward at the tone of caring support in his own voice.

"Sure you don't," Kate snorted.

"I don't," Gibbs repeated. "But something does need to be done."

"Like what? I leave Grace asleep, without breakfast and without a baby– sorry, _supervisor_," she tossed a wry look Grace's way, "and come to work?"

Gibbs and Grace exchanged glances. "Well…why not?" Gibbs asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"Yeah, Aunt Kate," Grace chimed in, seeing an opportunity. "I _am_ fourteen."

"She _is_ fourteen, Kate," Gibbs echoed, somehow managing to convey both amused sarcasm and serious advice.

"But –" Kate started, realizing she would probably lose this argument anyway.

"I can get my own breakfast," Grace hurriedly rationalized. "And call Mrs. Klein myself."

"Well…" Kate knew she was beaten. Gibbs was watching amusedly from his desk, waiting for her answer, and Grace had latched on to Gibbs' apparent support of her position. Besides, they did kind of have a point. "All right," she sighed.

"Yes!" Grace cheered. "Don't worry," she added, more calmly.

Gibbs wore the little half-grin he usually reserved for occasions when Tony got egg on his face. Beckoning Grace over to his desk, he clapped her shoulder and leaned toward her conspiratorially.

"Hey, Grace," he whispered, "can you go see Abby for a while? I gotta talk to Kate."

Grace squinted at him briefly before nodding. He smiled almost nostalgically as she left, then turned to Kate with a concerned but grave expression.

"Kate," he began, his voice not allowing for interruption, "I know you don't want to talk about it, but you have got to face what happened to you. If you don't deal with it, you'll never move on."

Kate's face hardened slightly. "Respectfully, Gibbs, that is none of your business."

Gibbs, though well-intentioned, found himself caught up in the urgency of his concern. Desperate to get her to help herself, he resorted to an old fallback. "It became my business when it began affecting your work. I can't have you flipping out on every rape case."

"That's all you care about, isn't it?" Kate smirked slightly, as if confirming a suspicion.

Gibbs gave her a look and she backed down. Speaking as if it were extremely difficult, he continued deliberately. "I want you to see a therapist."

She reacted much as he had expected her to. "What? I don't need a shrink," she protested, eyes flaring. "Look, I've dealt with my demons, okay? The last thing I need is to dig them all up again."

"Kate, they've already been dug up!" he hissed. "You haven't dealt with them; that's the problem!"

"You're one to talk!" she spat. And instantly regretted it.

Gibbs didn't get mad, surprisingly. He looked like he was going to, rising from his chair with eyes blazing, but halfway up he seemed to…deflate. He sank back into his seat and sighed.

"That's exactly my point, Kate," he said, softly but firmly.


	13. Dr Ducky

"Welcome to my, er, office, ladies," Ducky greeted smoothly, smiling slightly. "Please, take a seat."

Kate guided Grace in front of her as they made their way to a vacant steel table. Hoisting themselves up, they tried not to look at the other, less lively, occupants of the room. Both were visibly nervous.

"Ducky," Kate began before he could say anything, "I really appreciate your doing this for me. I mean, I don't think I could talk about this with a total stranger."

"It's not a problem, Caitlin," Ducky soothed. "I'm simply relieved you're finally talking about it with _someone_."

"Not like I had much of a choice," Kate muttered.

"Gibbs has your best interests at heart," Ducky assured her.

"I'm sure," Kate replied sarcastically, "but ordering me to see a shrink doesn't exactly say, 'I care.' At least he let me come see you instead."

"Indeed." Ducky paused. "Well, shall we begin?"

Kate drew a deep breath before exhaling a "Yeah".

"Grace?" Ducky queried, waiting for the girl's nod before continuing. "Very well. Caitlin, if you would please recount the events of that night."

Kate closed her eyes and inhaled shakily. She wasn't sure she could do this.

"At your own pace," Ducky reassured her.

"I had just turned sixteen," Kate began hesitantly, "when Dominic Fleming asked me out…"

As Kate told her story, both Grace and Ducky were listening raptly. Ducky didn't know the details and wanted to help her; Grace needed desperately to learn about her father, however much a cad he had been.

"…and a month later, I found out I was pregnant," Kate finished, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. It was unimaginably difficult to talk about – to relive – the Incident, but with the telling came the tiniest relief. It wasn't huge or profound but some small part of her, deep inside, sighed and relaxed. One brick had worked itself loose from the walls she had built for herself.

"Do you," Ducky interrupted her reverie softly, "blame yourself?"

Kate's face contorted with the effort of not crying as she slowly nodded. "I should have known better," she choked out. "I should have realized…"

"You couldn't have," Grace spoke up, surprising both Kate and Ducky. "You couldn't have known."

"But I did. I knew when he ordered the wine," Kate stated, eyes squeezed shut with the pain of recalling her error in judgment. "I knew then that he was bad news. But I ignored the alarm bells. I thought it was rebellious. I thought it was cool."

"It was a mistake," Grace argued, becoming steadily more passionate, "one anyone could have made. That doesn't make it your fault."

Kate laughed – a hollow, humorless laugh that made Grace shiver. "I know all the arguments. You think I didn't replay that night, over and over, in my head? I know exactly what I did and didn't do. I know whose fault it was."

The bitterness in her voice surprised even Ducky. He had known she had issues; he just didn't realize how ingrained they actually were. It would be difficult to show her the truth in the lies she had been telling herself for fourteen years.

"Would you quit?" Grace burst out angrily. "It wasn't your fault! Some drunk, power-tripping, libidinous," she struggled for the word, "_cretin_ decides he wants to rape you and you blame yourself? There is _nothing_ you could have done."

Grace's words seemed to cut through the guilt and self-loathing that surrounded Kate like a cloud, making her blink several times in surprise. No one had ever put it so bluntly, or perhaps she had just never heard. She still blamed herself but she was beginning to realize, ever so slowly, that maybe there was more to it.

Ducky saw her eyes lighten slightly and smiled tightly. Progress, however small, was still progress.


	14. In Memoriam

"Grace, it's time to go!" Kate called, tapping her foot absently.

"Coming!" the girl replied, her voice slightly muffled by the walls. She dashed out of her room, grasping a spiral notebook in one hand.

"What's that?" Kate asked as they made their way to the car.

"Ducky said I should keep a journal," Grace explained. "I'm supposed to write down my feelings and what I think caused them." Kate didn't miss the slight sarcasm in Grace's voice; she obviously didn't hold much truck with touchy-feely stuff but was at least willing to give Ducky a shot.

Their semiweekly-barring-an-important-case meetings with Ducky had become somewhat central to both their lives, giving them a common frame of reference of sorts. Kate had noticed a significant decrease in the number of arguments they had at home; Grace simply stored the information away and they hashed it out in front of their third party. Ducky took it all in stride, helping them to see where they could improve. Kate didn't always feel better after a session, but over the weeks she felt her general mood improving.

"So," Ducky started, as per usual, "anything particularly pressing on our minds today?"

Kate, who usually opened by expressing a newly discovered (or, rather, uncovered) emotion concerning Dominic and the Incident, was silent. She had nothing new to say; she was still processing from last week. Ducky had managed to get her past her self-blame and she had begun channeling her anger toward Dominic.

Grace, on the other hand, fidgeted slightly as she waited for someone else to speak. Ducky noticed and called on her.

"Grace?" he prompted gently. She glanced nervously at Kate before beginning, as if to make sure she really was the only one with something to say.

"I miss my parents," she whispered, almost inaudibly. She was clearly struggling not to cry.

"Oh, my dear," Ducky breathed, eyes full of sympathy.

Kate pulled Grace into a hug where the girl, after initially tensing slightly, broke down and sobbed into Kate's shoulder. Kate stroked her, rocking slightly, maternal instinct overriding any possible awkwardness. This was her child and she was in pain.

They remained in that position for several minutes, Grace releasing all the tears she hadn't been able to shed for months. Kate felt a pang of guilt as she realized Grace must have been trying to be strong for her, Kate, as she dealt with her own repressed emotions. Now it was Grace's turn.

"Grace," Ducky encouraged when she had finally cried herself dry, "what do you miss most about your parents?"

Grace drew a shuddering breath as she closed her eyes and remembered. Smiling shakily, eyes squeezing tears down the well-established tracks on her cheeks, she breathed, "The way my dad smiled when he teased me. My mom's laugh. How safe I felt when they hugged me…" At this, Grace nearly broke down again, wiping her face furiously and swallowing hard around the lump in her throat.

Kate blinked back tears of her own. She longed to gather Grace into her arms and rock her like a baby. While that had been appropriate two minutes ago, though, in light of Grace's latest articulation she felt it would be cheating the girl to attempt to replace what she had lost.

Ducky cleared his throat lightly when it appeared that Grace had collected herself. It wasn't a polite, get-their-attention-so-I-can-talk-uninterrupted_ ahem_, either; it was a genuine, emotional throat clear. Grace, wiping her eyes, looked up. Ducky saw a brief flash of raw grief in her eyes before she clammed up again.

"Grace," he said softly, "it's all right to feel." He couldn't help but feel slightly pleased as emotion crept back into her eyes and she gave him a watery smile.

Kate sighed as she pushed open her apartment door. It had been a tough day, beginning with the emotional session with Ducky and continuing through a strenuous case to end with the drive home in the worst traffic jam ever. Grace looked about how Kate felt: tired, worn, emotionally strained. Impulsively, Kate reached down and tousled Grace's hair affectionately. Grace looked up and gave her what Kate had come to recognize as her trademark "Grace look". It was sarcastic and poignant, inquisitive and enlightened. Kate smiled; that look meant Grace was all right even if she was grieving.

"Aunt Kate," Grace asked, sighing heavily, "can I please call Uncle Jack?"

"Of course," Kate replied, slightly over-cheery in her desire to maintain normalcy. "Use the calling card."

Grace grabbed the phone from the kitchen and shut herself in her room. Kate busied herself with nothing, resisting the urge to pick up the other phone and listen in. She walked past Grace's door several times, leaning in slightly to overhear the goings-on inside. She heard sniffles a few times, strangled sobs at one point, and quiet weeping throughout. She stopped on her seventh pass, startled to hear laughter. She leaned closer, pressing her ear to the door against her better judgment, wondering what could be funny right now.

"Remember the time Mom was sick, so Dad had to make Thanksgiving dinner?" Grace giggled.

Kate was startled to hear a voice answer back before she realized Grace must have the phone on speaker. She recognized the distorted voice vaguely from her brief meeting with Uncle Jack two months ago.

"Yeah, well," Uncle Jack laughed with his niece, "don't be too hard on him. All men have to learn that lesson the hard way."

"Uncle Jack," Grace admonished teasingly, "six hours at 300 degrees is not the same as three hours at 600 degrees."

"It's a reasonable assumption!" he defended himself, jokingly indignant. "Besides, you're not exactly off the hook yourself. What about the dog food incident?"

"No fair! That was entirely different," Grace protested.

"Huh," he snorted, and Kate could _hear_ the raised eyebrow. "…How, exactly?"

"Well…" Grace faltered, before suddenly changing tack. "The look on Dad's face was priceless. I thought he was going to spew!"

"Naw, it tasted like chicken!" Uncle Jack kidded. "Your mom took it awfully well, I thought."

"Yeah, banning me from the kitchen for the rest of my natural life is 'taking it awfully well'," Grace commented wryly. "You know, I actually cooked something the other day? Wasn't half bad either, or so Aunt Kate tells me."

"Got yourself a new guinea pig, eh?"

"You could say that."

"I just did. Hey, kiddo," he got slightly more serious, surprising Kate who had figured him for a perpetual joker, "how's it goin'?"

"Good," she answered after a moment's pause. "Mostly."

"Mostly," he repeated, dragging the word out in what was clearly a question.

"There are rough spots," Grace explained. "It's getting better, though. Really, Uncle Jack, you don't have to worry about me."

"Gracie, if I didn't worry about you I'd have nothin' to do."

"I _know_ that's not true."

"You callin' me a liar?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

The serious note left their conversation just as quickly as it had entered and they resumed their banter without a hitch. Kate smiled at the comfortable relationship between uncle and niece and went back into the kitchen to fix dinner, more certain than ever that maybe she – maybe _they _– would actually make it through this.


	15. The MillionDollar Question

"You ready for next week?" Kate asked, glancing at her passenger out of the corner of her eye as they drove home from the store.

"Yeah," Grace answered, confidently but unable to disguise the faint note of worry in her voice.

"High school's tough," Kate acknowledged, "but you'll do great. It won't take you long to settle in." And she meant it. Kate's observations of Grace over the past ten weeks had found the girl remarkably adaptable.

"What were you like in high school?" Grace asked, cleverly steering the conversation away from herself while at the same time sincerely curious.

"Pretty average, actually," Kate said. Suddenly she struck on what seemed an inspired idea. "Hey, why don't we look through some of my old yearbooks? You can laugh at my hair and everything."

Grace chuckled at that but agreed. Kate inwardly congratulated herself for thinking of such a great bonding experience. When they got home, Kate had Grace put the groceries away as she pulled out a box from where it had been buried in her closet.

"Come on, come on," she muttered, rifling through the box and tossing various memorabilia aside. She paused occasionally, smiling vaguely at the memories certain objects recalled.

"Find 'em?" a voice asked from behind her.

Kate jumped, upsetting the box and spilling its contents all over the floor of the closet – including four large books.

"I guess so," Grace commented wryly.

"You startled me," Kate explained, slightly embarrassed at her reaction.

"I can see that." Grace maintained her sarcastically-tinged tone, eyebrow raised in ironic superiority.

"Oh, be quiet," Kate groused, collecting the yearbooks and heading for the living room with Grace in tow.

They settled onto the couch, the first of the four books opened across Kate's lap. She quickly flipped past the first few title pages, stopping when she got to something interesting.

"That's my friend Ruthie," Kate laughed, pointing to a picture of a dark-complexioned girl making faces at the camera. "She was probably the most photographed kid at school. Always a cut-up, too." Kate was about to turn the page when Grace stopped her.

"Hey, is that…" She squinted closer at the brunette almost hiding behind Ruthie.

Kate groaned good-naturedly. "Yeah. I never did like having my picture taken."

They paged through the activity/student life pages, laughing at some of the photos as Kate indicated the people she knew. They giggled through the class pictures, Grace laughing hysterically at the hairstyles and Kate cringing at what had been the height of fashion. Kate's picture held particular fascination for Grace.

"Wow, you look…younger," she commented.

"Um, Grace, I hate to break it to you but I _was_ younger," Kate replied with a smile and an attempt at imitating Grace's eyebrow action.

"Don't even try, Aunt Kate." Grace shook her head at Kate's effort, which had only resulted in her eyes bugging comically. "It's an O'Neill thing. And I _know_ you were younger, thank you. I meant, you look…different. I don't know. Something about your eyes."

Kate looked into her own face – her open, smiling, honest face – and knew what Grace meant. There was an innocence there, a trust not yet broken. Wordlessly, Kate reached for the book dated two years later. Opening to the correct page, she showed Grace a very different picture. This Kate was hardened, scowling behind the smile she gave the camera. There was anger in her eyes, and fear. Clearly something had happened between her freshman and junior years and there were no prizes for guessing what.

"Aunt Kate," Grace spoke softly, "could I see a picture…" She trailed off, uncertain of how her request might be received.

Kate realized what she was asking, though, and nodded. "You deserve that much," she muttered bitterly.

Flipping a few pages in yet another book (her sophomore year, the year of the Incident), she located what Grace was looking for.

Grace leaned closer. She gazed into the smiling, dimpled face of a young blond boy. Brown eyes twinkled at her from under his curls, betraying no indication of the evil that lay beneath his friendly veneer. He looked every bit the proverbial boy-next-door, charming and attractive. She shuddered to think what he had done to Kate. She felt slightly nauseated as she realized that this cute, charismatic _scum_ was the reason she existed.

"He's," Grace started, clearing the lump in her throat. "He's my…father."

It wasn't really a question and it wasn't really a statement. She seemed to be trying to come to terms with the fact in her own mind, as if maybe saying it out loud would make it easier to accept.

"No," Kate spat vehemently. "He's not. All he did was contribute a little DNA, and sperm doesn't entitle him to much. Ed O'Neill was your father, Grace."

Grace seemed to wrestle with herself for a moment before asking the question that had so far, though unuttered, defined their relationship.

"But who's my mother?"


	16. Teenagers!

"Oh, no," Kate declared, "you are _not_ wearing that to school."

"Aunt Kate," Grace rolled her eyes, "it is not that bad."

"Grace, it's the first day of high school. Do you really this to be people's first impression of you?"

"So what if it is? What's wrong with it?" Grace protested.

"For starters, it's too high in the bottom, too low in the front, too tight around the midriff, and too loose at the shoulders," Kate recited.

"Oh, please. You sound like –" Grace hesitated.

"Your mother?" Kate interjected smugly.

"Frankly, yeah," Grace shot back.

"Well, guess what, Grace – I am your mother." Kate was only a few notches short of yelling by now.

"Barely," Grace replied nastily, matching Kate's volume.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kate demanded, masking her hurt behind anger.

"You know what I mean," Grace answered cryptically.

"No, I don't," Kate pressed, frustrated. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Just that I didn't even know you until three months ago," Grace retorted.

"We've been over this before," Kate said, the warning clear in her suddenly lowered voice.

Grace took the hint and changed tack. "Come on, Aunt Kate, everybody's wearing this."

Kate snorted, putting aside her shock and pain to concentrate on the argument at hand. "First, I highly doubt that. Second, and I know this is cliché," Kate closed her eyes, not believing she was about to say this, "but if everyone were jumping off a bridge, would you?"

"I can't believe you just said that," Grace responded, trademark eyebrow on the rise.

"Yeah, neither can I," Kate cringed before sighing, "Please, Grace, just humor me. We can work something out later, but right now we're going to be late."

Grace considered her carefully before rolling her eyes again and huffing, "Fine, I'll change. But just this once. And only because I don't want to be late."

"I don't get it, Ducky," Kate confessed helplessly. "Last week, we got along great. I thought we were finally getting it together. This morning, I'm her worst enemy."

"Believe it or not, Caitlin," Ducky smiled sympathetically, "this is actually a very positive sign. Grace's behavior this morning, as you described it, is definitely normal teenage conduct. And, in fact, she is beginning to treat you as a mother, whether or not she realizes it."

"It sure doesn't feel like it," Kate sighed glumly.

"Trite as this may sound – welcome to parenthood."

"There's something else," Kate began hesitantly. "Grace said something this morning…"

"Go on, Caitlin," Ducky encouraged her.

She sighed. "She said I was 'barely' her mother. I know that's normal, but I really thought we'd moved past that."

Ducky frowned slightly. "It hasn't been an issue lately?"

"No, it hasn't come up for several weeks. Actually, it was never that big a problem to begin with; I think because I'm her biological mother, she can't use the 'You're not my real mom' line. There were a couple of times she seemed like she wanted to, though." Kate, as always when she was unsure of herself, babbled.

"Perhaps…" Ducky mused. Kate waited for him to continue but the pause grew longer and more awkward.

"Um, perhaps what, Ducky?"

"Oh, I was just considering…" Ducky shook himself from his pondering and addressed Kate more clearly. "Perhaps Grace didn't really mean it. It sounds almost as if she's simply recycling an old argument that has proven effective in the past. Did she press the point?"

"No," Kate acknowledged, recalling the morning's events. "I warned her that we'd been over it before and she backed off right away."

"Yes," Ducky nodded. "That does seem to correspond with my theory. I can't be sure, of course, but I wouldn't worry overmuch, Caitlin. Grace is, after all, fourteen years old. As I said before, this is typical teenage behavior."

"Thanks, Ducky," Kate smiled appreciatively.

"You're quite welcome. My door is always open."

Kate typed her report, glad Tony was out on an interview and not peppering her with inane questions and comments. She was definitely not in the mood for his antics. It was amazing, though, how quiet the office became without him around. The only sound was the clicking of keys from her and Gibbs' computers, punctuated by the occasional slurp of coffee from Gibbs' desk. McGee was working with Abby on some technical problem but even his presence wouldn't have made much difference.

"How's Grace doing?" Gibbs asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Kate started at the unexpected noise and the even more unexpected question. Gibbs had hardly said a word about Grace before, and then it was usually to remind Kate that she ought to have no effect on her work. Why was he suddenly interested?

"Um, pretty good," Kate answered generally, still confused.

"She started school today."

_How does he do that?_ Kate wondered. "Yeah," she replied, even though it had not been a question.

"High school. How's she taking it?"

Again, Kate wondered at his abrupt curiosity. His determined stare at his computer didn't give any hint as to his intentions, so she answered his question at face value. "She was a little nervous, but I think she'll settle in pretty quick."

"She will. She's a trouper."

Kate marveled at his ability to judge people. He had only met Grace for five minutes two months ago and again at the benefit but had apparently garnered a good bit of her personality from the two brief encounters. Of course, he did that every day with suspects but it was somewhat more impressive when Kate knew the person and knew he was entirely correct.

As suddenly and mysteriously as the conversation had started, it ended. Gibbs simply stopped talking and Kate was too befuddled (and, admittedly, intimidated) to continue it herself. It was just one more mystery about Gibbs that Kate figured she would never know the answer to.


	17. Name Game

IMPORTANT Author's Note: Just a reminder that there is no shipping in this fic! It is not about Kate's and Tony's, or Kate's and Gibbs', romance; it is about Kate's and Grace's developing relationship as mother and daughter. This is the second last chapter; there has not been and WILL NOT BE any ship in this story. Thank you.

* * *

"Why don't we all tell everyone something about ourselves?" asked the – there was no other word for it – fluffy woman at the front of the room. She wore the nervous smile of a person in a new situation, compensating for anxiety with overfriendliness. Grace disliked her instantly; she smacked of kittens, dollhouses, and pink.

"Would you like to go first, Miss…" the teacher trailed, scrambling for her roll sheet while nodding at Grace.

_Shoot_, Grace thought. _Here we go._ She had expected to have to tell someone her name sometime, of course, but that didn't make the actual event any easier. A new dilemma had cropped up when she separated herself socially from Kate. When Kate introduced her to others, it was enough to simply say she was Kate's daughter. Separate, however, she was now required to provide a surname. And she didn't know what to say.

She had become used to calling Kate "Aunt Kate" and she still thought of Mary O'Neill as "Mom," although…but that was a thought for another time. The point was, like the issue with what she should call Kate, she didn't know whether to introduce herself as Grace O'Neill or Grace Todd. She was stuck between two names, two worlds, wanted by both but belonging to neither.

"…Todd?" the teacher finished, finally scrounging up her attendance card.

So. Decided for her by the forms, the legality of her relationship to Kate. Grace was mildly surprised to find she didn't really mind. After fourteen years of being an O'Neill, she had thought her transition to a Todd, if she made it at all, would be more difficult. It was strange, of course, but she supposed she had been working herself up to it – consciously or not.

"Miss Todd?" the teacher prompted, glancing again at the roll card she was clutching like a lifeline. "Grace?"

"Oh, sorry," Grace replied, cringing. _Great first impression_, she thought. "Um…what do you want me to say?"

"Are you trying to be smart, Miss Todd?" The teacher, discouraged by the class' lack of enthusiasm and frustrated by Grace's previous spacey-ness, was quickly becoming agitated.

"No, _ma'am_," Grace answered icily, adding the title with obvious sarcasm. She didn't exactly mean to be rude but her mood was not being improved by this incompetent woman. "Okay, my name is Grace…Todd. I just moved here from Maryland. I…really don't know what else to say." The class tittered, amused by the exchange.

"Thank you, Miss Todd," the teacher said quickly, apparently eager to shut Grace up. "Next, Mr.…Anderson?"

The boy stood and introduced himself as Ricky but Grace was no longer paying attention. Her thoughts returned to her name dilemma, now solved, and extended to pondering her unusual situation. She was truly unique; she knew people who were adopted and she knew people who still lived with their natural parents, but she suspected there were very few who did both.

Her discomfort with the situation was growing steadily less the longer she lived with Aunt Kate. Her calls to Uncle Jack, while still reasonably frequent, were growing fewer and farther between. Her arguments with Aunt Kate, at least the ones regarding her 'abandonment', had dramatically decreased and she was, almost unconsciously, beginning to think of Kate like her mother.

That was an interesting thought, she reflected. If anyone had asked her three months ago who her mother was, she would have replied, "Mary O'Neill" with no hesitation. Three weeks ago and she would have hemmed and hawed until the inquirer gave up. Now…now she would probably hesitate before thoughtfully replying, "Kate Todd" – thoughtful because she herself had only recently realized the fact.

Grace still distinguished between her mother and her mom. Mary O'Neill had been her mom; Kate was becoming her mother. It wasn't so much a matter of rank as it was familiarity. After all, no matter how great or nice Aunt Kate was, Grace had still only lived with her for three months to Mary O'Neill's 14 years. It would simply take a little more time. Well, maybe not _simply_; there was nothing simple about the situation.

Grace was still dealing with her parents' death, for all her outer appearance of peace. She often woke up crying from a recurring nightmare in which she relived the pronouncement from her school principal about the car crash. She was far from 'over it,' whatever that meant, and doubted she ever would be. Her conversations with Uncle Jack helped considerably, though. They would remember the good times and occasionally he would talk her through her grief. He was certainly no stranger to it.

"Miss Todd, are you still with us?" the teacher asked in a sing-song that seemed designed to embarrass Grace. The class chuckled again.

"Yes, ma'am," Grace sighed, just barely hanging on to the respectful title.

"Well, then, if you would please begin reading from page 4 in the book," the teacher directed as the class opened their books obediently, though with excessive rustling and shifting.

Grace sighed again and began reading. She would have to deal with this for the next eighteen weeks; she might as well get used to it. Shelving her thoughts on life, the universe, and everything – or at least her current experience – she tried to concentrate on the words she was speaking. It wasn't easy, but then nothing about the last three months had been.


	18. Journey Ended, Journey Begun

"Grace! What's going on, girl?" Abby greeted cheerfully.

"Hey, Abby," Grace responded. "Not much."

"How's school?"

"Not too bad. You know how it is."

"Yeah," Abby nodded, frowning sympathetically. "So, what brings you in this morning?"

"Teacher work day or something," Grace explained with a dismissive hand-wave. "Mrs. Klein's granddaughter had a "Grandparents' Day" at her school, so Aunt Kate said I could hang out here if I promised to stay out of the way."

"Cool! Wanna come with me to take these results to Ducky?"

"Sure. It's been a while," Grace mused.

"Too long, Grace-ster! Come on, let's go."

"Grace, my dear! How are you?" Ducky welcomed her warmly. Impulsively, Grace reached out and hugged him. After his initial surprise, his warm arms encircled her and she inhaled his dog-laced cologne scent. She had rarely felt so safe.

"Pretty good, thanks," she replied, breaking away and grinning.

"How is school going for you?"

"Oh, you know. Little up, little down."

"Mmm. And how are you getting on with Kate?" His eyes twinkled kindly and Grace remembered their last session fondly. If it weren't for school, she would have continued the appointments gladly – if only to spend more time with Ducky.

"Better. We still have our moments, but things are mostly good." _Thanks to you_, Grace added silently.

"I'm delighted to hear it," Ducky smiled before turning to Abby. "Ah, are those the results?"

"Yep. I think you'll like what you see," Abby replied cheerfully.

"Indeed, just as I suspected. Thank you, Abby."

"Hey, Ducky!" a new voice joined the trio. "Gibbs wants your conclusions ASAP – oh, hey, Grace."

"Hi, Tony," Grace waved a little shyly. Kate's coworker or not, he was pretty hot.

"How are you? How's school going?" he asked conversantly as he strode toward Ducky.

"Pretty good," she answered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as yet another person asked her about school.

"Great," he replied, sincerely if a bit distractedly. "So, Ducky, Gibbs is wondering what your thoughts are…"

"Tell him I'll be right along, won't you? I just have to finish up a few things."

"Will do. Hey, Grace," he directed his attention at the teen, "you wanna come with? Gibbs has been asking about you."

"Asking about me? Why?" Grace asked warily, not a little disturbed by the thought of stern, crabby Gibbs asking about her. Their last encounter had not exactly been in the best of circumstances. Nevertheless, she found herself moving toward the door with Tony, waving goodbye to Abby and Ducky as they stepped onto the elevator.

"Well, you'll just have to wait and see," Tony muttered ominously, wiggling his eyebrows in what was apparently supposed to be a mysterious manner.

Grace smiled despite herself, realizing what Aunt Kate meant by Tony's juvenile behavior. He really was a goofball.

"Boss, Ducky says he'll be right up to talk about the case," Tony called as they approached his desk.

"Hello, Grace," Gibbs intoned without even looking up. "DiNozzo, don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah, boss," Tony agreed immediately, spinning on his heels and heading back to the elevator.

"So, Miss Todd," Gibbs began, typing something quickly before turning to face her. "School's going well."

"Um, yes," she replied, slightly confused by the use of statement rather than question.

"How's it going with your mother?" he asked casually. Grace raised her eyebrow at that; he was the first one to refer to Kate as her mother. Again she was surprised by how little it bothered her.

"Oh, pretty good," she answered offhandedly. He squinted at her and she shrank under his gaze. "We have our ups and downs," she admitted, "but it's feeling more…normal." She startled herself with that one; she hadn't told anyone else how comfortable she was growing with Kate.

"That's great," Gibbs nodded. It would've sounded insincere from anyone else but Gibbs managed to make it genuine. Of course, the small-but-dazzling smile he treated her to didn't hurt either. "So," he scowled, turning back to his computer, "the boys bothering you yet?"

Grace cocked her head confusedly at the odd question. "No…?"

Gibbs nodded, a glare firmly on his face. "Good. You're too young to date. When they do come knocking, though – and they will – have 'em come see me."

His tone made it unclear whether or not he was joking but Grace smiled anyway, stifling a snort of laughter at Gibbs' obvious paternalism. How could she ever have been afraid of this man?

"DiNozzo!" he barked suddenly as Tony reentered the room. "What are you doing back so soon?" Grace rapidly remembered the basis for her fear.

"The…the guy broke, boss," Tony explained nervously. "He confessed."

"I'll be right down," Gibbs groused, typing a quick command into his computer before rising. "Take care of yourself, Grace."

* * *

"Grace!" Kate called, scrambling for her purse. "Grace, let's go!" 

"Coming!" the girl replied, dragging a medium-sized suitcase from her room. Kate grabbed one side and together they maneuvered it down the stairs and into Kate's car. Kate started the car and sped out of the parking lot, narrowly missing a lamppost.

"Are you _trying_ to kill us?" Grace asked sarcastically, clutching her door handle.

"I don't want you to miss your flight, okay?" Kate replied tightly, checking her mirrors and changing lanes with a jerk.

"Well, I really think Uncle Jack would rather not meet a large pine box at the baggage carousel," Grace fired back.

"Oh, be quiet," Kate rolled her eyes.

"Silent as the grave," Grace quipped. Kate just shook her head.

When they arrived at the airport, Kate heaved Grace's suitcase from the trunk and all but ran into the terminal. Grace followed at a slower pace, shaking her head at Kate's nervousness. She arrived just in time to see Kate grab the boarding pass from the counter, thanking the agent cursorily, and dash toward Grace with a frantic look on her face.

"Come on, Grace, your flight boards in fifteen minutes!"

"Plenty of time," Grace reassured her, digging for her ID and gently taking her boarding pass from Kate.

"The ticket agent said I could take you to the gate, since you're a minor," Kate explained as they approached security.

"Great," Grace replied neutrally.

They made it through security easily enough. Kate began walking briskly for the gate, Grace trailing behind with a raised eyebrow. Her mother looked like she was at the track instead of at the airport. If she weren't otherwise occupied, she would have been mortified.

"Oh, Grace, there's your gate," Kate called, pointing it out. "Phew, we made it!"

"Told you," Grace said, smoothly settling into a free seat.

"You're sure you've got everything you need?"

"Yes," Grace sighed. "Besides, it'd be a little too late if I didn't."

"And you're okay flying by yourself?"

"I'm fine."

"Got enough snacks? They probably won't have a meal on this flight."

"Yes! Enough already," Grace cried exasperatedly. "Everything's set."

Kate opened her mouth to say something more but before she could, (to Grace's great relief) the boarding call began. Grace stood, eager to escape Kate's annoyingly maternal questions.

"Grace," Kate called, her voice breaking slightly. "Have a good time, all right? Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, I will."

Kate reached out her arms and Grace obliged with a hug. "I love you, Grace."

"I love you, too," Grace replied, "Mom."

* * *

FIN 


End file.
